Grand
by CaraNo
Summary: A mafia tale about love, loyalty, betrayal, and family. Told in three parts: Grand Tale, Grand Vendetta, and Grand Finale. We'll begin in 1975 and follow a family through the MGM Grand fire, the Dunes implosion, and the opening of Mandalay Bay.
1. Chapter 1

Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight.

Special thanks to Lisa, Lexi, Francesca, and Kitty.

* * *

**Grand Tale**

* * *

Carlisle Colucci (Boss) – Ed Maisano (Consigliere = advisor)

Felix Colucci (Underboss)

Edward Maisano (Capo) – Alec Maisano (Capo) – Emmett Colucci (Capo)

Carlisle and Ed are cousins, both with a brood of children each. Carlisle and Esme are parents to Felix, Emmett, and Alice. On the side, Carlisle also has two sons—Michael and Peter—with a mistress. Michael and Peter don't have their father's last name but are still involved with the family as soldati.

Ed and Elizabeth are parents to Edward Junior, Alec, Brianna, and Victoria.

* * *

**Las Vegas Sun ~ Saturday, Nov. 22, 1980 | 6 a.m.**

_"...At least ten MGM Grand Hotel guests were reported killed in a raging fire that engulfed the 2,000 room hotel shortly after 7 a.m. Friday. More than 100 injuries were initially reported but exact figures weren't available at press time. Officials said others may be dead inside the hotel._

_The MGM's casino was destroyed. Damage could run into the millions of dollars, witnesses guessed. It started in the west casino basement and swept through the giant hotel, blocking off all exits._

_Witnesses said at least 2,000 hotel workers and guests fought their way through smoke and flames to the MGM's roof..."_

* * *

**Trivia/Mob speak:**

A capo is in charge of a crew of soldiers who do his bidding. When a job is done, they "kick up" to their capo. In other words, they give their capo—their immediate boss—a cut of their earnings. This is called tribute. In turn, the capo pays tribute to the underboss, and on it goes. Everyone wants a piece.

* * *

_**Las Vegas – 1975**_

**EPOV**

When I enter Felix's club, I'm thinking another day at the office sounds pretty damn good. Only…it's night, but you know what I mean. The bunnies on the stage are looking fine, the drinks are flowing, the dough's rolling in, and I can leave my personal life behind for a while. God knows I need it.

"You're too fuckin' tense, Junior," Felix tells me over the music with a clap on my shoulder. "Want something to take the edge off?" I nod, sighing. I could've gotten some myself, back at my own club, but I forgot. "All right. Let's go to my office. My brother should be here soon, too."

Emmett. I'm a little surprised he's not here already. It's the day we meet up to talk shipments and money, and Emmett, who can't stand his wife, is usually the first one to arrive.

Arranged marriages to bring families together or to make other alliances are too damn common.

Next week, it's my turn.

"You got some new dancers?" Alec, my younger brother, asks Felix.

Felix grins widely and jerks his chin in the direction of the stage. "Oh yeah, you should see 'em up close. I'll send some in later. We could all use some downtime."

He couldn't be more right.

Emmett arrives, and we talk business.

**~oOo~**

Translation:

Vá all'inferno = Go to hell.

Fanook/fanuk = Derogatory American/Italian slang word for fag/homosexual.

~oOo~

Sitting in one of Felix's leather chairs, I lean forward and snort a line of blow as he talks about next week's shipment from Miami. Drugs aren't my job; that's my brother's. Emmett's mostly in charge of the gambling, and Felix usually assign contracts to me, 'cause hits are what I do best. The desert is big, and finding bodies is impossible. Plus, I love the money. But aside from that, we all have smaller businesses we're in charge of.

I sniff and swallow a few times, suddenly not feeling so tired and melancholy anymore.

I loosen my tie.

"Ay, Junior," Emmett says. I cock a brow at him. "When does Jane's family get here?"

"Don't fucking remind me," I mutter, dragging a hand over my face. "I don't know. A couple days before the wedding, I guess."

That's the only positive thing about all this; with Jane still living in New York, I haven't been forced to be in on the wedding planning. No fake smiles, no pretending. I'll be there to say "I do", and that's it. It's business—Carlisle's way of tying the Coluccis and Maisanos together with a family full of crooked politicians. We're all New Yorkers, but Carlisle saw big money in Vegas, so we moved out, but that doesn't mean he doesn't want to keep making scratch in New York. By having Jane's dad on our side, Carlisle will have it easier out East.

"Junior's lucky," Felix huffs, and I flip him off, 'cause I'm not. "Oh, come on, cousin! At least you won't have your in-laws here. They'll be here for the weddin', but that's it." He wipes his hands clean.

True. I only have Jane moving here, but that's enough. I don't fucking want a wife.

Emmett laughs. "You_ fanook_. Man up, Junior; we all get married."

"_Vá all'inferno_," I tell him with a flip of my hand under my chin.

"OH!" the guys shout.

I shake my head. "I'm gonna book it." I'm so fed up with this. Might as well go home if this is the talk of the evening. "Gimme my cut and I'll be on my way."

"Nuh-uh," Alec responds and pushes me down in my seat again. "Chill out, big bro. Have a few drinks, do another line, see some bunny."

Well, it _has_ been a while since I got my dick wet.

"Alec's right," Felix says, nodding at my brother. "Wanna see one of the new ones?"

I shrug. "Send 'em in."

Soon, we have four scantily clad women walking in, ready to dance for us.

The last one to walk in, the brunette, is smoking hot.

"Isabella, honey, you go show Junior over there a good time," Felix says, touching her cheek.

She nods and walks over to me, wearing some sexy getup and a seductive smile.

_Now, this is what I'm talking about._

"Hey, _ciccino_." She smiles and straddles me. I groan under my breath, refraining from touching her. I never do until the dancer gives the green light. "You're lookin' sad."

I chuckle, my head resting on the back of my chair. This girl is not only a New Yorker, but she's got Italian in her. That's good. And I hope she'll have even more Italian in her soon.

I smirk lazily. "I'm sure you can, uh, cheer me up."

She hums.

I reach up and twirl a strand of her hair between my fingers. 'Cause I had to.

She's fucking gorgeous.

Leaning in, she drops a soft kiss on my neck. Her hips are grinding, swiveling, rolling onto my stiff cock.

She hums again, softly, and I break out in gooseflesh. It's that little sound—it does something to me. Heh, she's like a little hummingbird.

"Strip for me."

"A man who knows what he wants," she muses, eyes fuckin' twinkling. "How about we up the ante?"

I like how this girl thinks. "Private room?"

She nods.

I give her ass a smack. "Lead the way."

**~oOo~**

When my ass hits the couch in one of the private rooms, Isabella straddles me again, and this time I touch her.

Roughly.

"Kiss me."

She obeys and kisses me forcefully as I knead her sweet ass.

She pulls my hair; I tug on hers, causing her head to tilt back. I kiss her neck, tasting her. She never stops grinding against my cock. Fuck. This is what I love about Italian women—all that fire, all that passion. I never wanted a fucking princess, which I know Jane is. She's Daddy's little girl. I want the hotheaded crazies.

I'm fucked in the head, I know this.

"Strip."

She moans and leans back. I watch hungrily. She removes her bra, quickly followed by her panties.

_Fuckin' Christ._

"Felix told me you're getting married next week." She hums and scoots closer, pushing her gloriously naked body against mine. "Is this your celebration, honey?"

Now she just needs to shut up.

I don't wanna hear a thing about next week.

After sliding my tongue up her neck, I reach her ear and whisper my next words.

"Blow me, hummingbird."

"_Certamente_."

With my pants pulled down, Isabella kneels on the floor between my parted legs and puts her mouth on me. I groan and guide her with my hands in her hair, my head lolling back. Fuck. The pleasure… She can suck dick.

She hums around me, causing me to both laugh and moan. It feels so damn good, but that little humming noise she makes is just too cute.

"Oh, yeah," I grunt when she tugs on my balls.

She sucks me hard and deep, making me moan some more.

But I don't want to come like this.

"Sit on my dick," I pant. She releases me with a pop, and I reach for a rubber. "Roll it on for me." Which she does. It's a smoking hot sight.

Then she sinks down on me.

"Oh, _Madonna mia_," I breathe out, squeezing my eyes shut. She's hot; I slide in and out with ease, and she feels so goddamn good. "Fuck, amazing." She starts moving faster. I cup her tits and enjoy the ride. She should eat more, though. She's without a doubt the sexiest chick I've ever seen, but she's on the slim side. "Kiss me again."

"Are you a kisser, _ciccino_?" she chuckles breathlessly and leans forward. I catch her pouty lips with mine, my hands sliding down to her ass.

And no, I'm not really a kisser. But this bunny…yeah, she's…

"_Cazzo_," I curse, trying to catch my breath. With our foreheads touching, we both look down to where we're joined. What a sight. In and out of her pussy. My cock is greased, slick, which makes me hate the glove, 'cause I'd like to hit it raw, but no matter. It's still good. Hot. Wet. Oh, shit. No warning. "I'm gonna come, hummingbird," I grit out.

My head falls back as I explode. I pull her down on me roughly, thrusting upward hard and just as rough.

Isabella cries out, grinding to take me even deeper.

I'm fucking gone.

**~oOo~**

Translation:

_Faccia di merda_ = Bastard, shithead, asshole...

~oOo~

A week later, I say "I do" to Jane Wilkins.

It's the third time I've ever met her.

I get wasted at the reception while Jane is with her parents.

Dad says it's for the best—this union—and that it's not like I can't get pussy elsewhere.

That makes me think of my hummingbird. I haven't seen her since that one time last week. The last thing she gave me was a big smile when I tipped her five hundred. What? She earned it.

"You fuckin' around on Ma?" I slur to my pops. I know Carlisle has a couple broads on the side—he even has two bastard kids—but my old man's always seemed devoted to Mom. I don't know. Shit like that happens. Especially when you don't marry for love. Pshh. Love. That's bull. It's all about business. Paper.

Emmett has a mistress in Reno. Rosalie doesn't know. Felix fucks one of my dancers—Heidi—twice a week at my club. His wife has no idea.

"Watch that mouth, Junior," Dad chuckles and takes my drink. "Time for you to cut the cake."

_Fuck_ the cake.

"Ay, Felix!" I shout across the restaurant we're at. "Get on ova' hea'!"

Felix walks over, two drinks in his hands. Both his. _Faccia di merda_. "How's married life, cousin?" he laughs.

He should mind his fucking business, which I tell him. "_Fatti i cazzi tuoi_." He takes a seat next to me, and I throw my arm around him and lean in. "Listen," I say, keeping my voice low, "remember Heidi at Dawn?" He nods. "Yeah, well, you have a dancer in your club that I like. The new one? Italian and gorgeous."

He chuckles. "Isabella?"

"Yeah." I nod. "How about a trade? You take Heidi to Twilight, and I take Isabella to Dawn."

Apparently, my voice isn't low enough for Dad to not hear, though. "The German whore, Felix? Really?"

"Stay out of it," Felix tells him, pointing a finger. "And don't call her a whore."

I laugh, I take Felix's drink, I down it, I laugh some more, my life sucks.

And Felix tells me we have a deal. He'll take Heidi, I'll take Isabella.

"We'll get that sorted next month when—you know," he adds pointedly, and I do know. I won't be in town, because Felix is sending me to Los Angeles to handle some business.

**~oOo~**

I don't want a damn honeymoon—I don't want to leave Vegas for _that_—but it'd be rude to decline my father-in-law's gift to us. Well, one of the gifts. A night at the biggest hotel in town. The MGM Grand. And that's where we are now. I'm still drunk. A little coked up, too. My brother and I snuck out earlier and did a few lines. We also had a brotherly chat—something he needed, because he's next. At twenty-three, I'm only a year older than he is, and I know our parents won't wait long before they start searching for his future. Though, I suspect Carlisle will be just as involved in that.

"I need a drink," I sigh heavily and walk over to the bar in our suite.

I hear Jane shuffling nervously near the bed.

As I take a swig of my gin, I watch her. The wife.

I shudder.

She's pretty, I suppose, but…no. Young. Only eighteen. Blonde. Pale. Ugh. Blue eyes. So far from Italian. She's also skinny and too girlish in her appearance. I want a woman. A real one. This one hardly has tits. No ass. No hips. No goddamn curves. No cushion for the pushin'.

"Are you a virgin?" I ask, leaning my elbows on the bar top behind me.

"What?" she gasps and looks appalled. I just raise a brow at her. "Of course I am!"

I shrug.

"Wouldn't you…" She hesitates. "…care if I wasn't? Or was…or am…" Now she's confusing herself.

"Why the fuck would I care?" I chuckle then shake her head. "No matta'."

Soon, she's not a virgin anymore.

Hey, I told her we didn't have to do anything, but she said she wanted it.

I've made the decision not to be with her again for a long, _long_ time, though.

She's a kid!

"Goodnight, Edward," she mumbles as I turn off the lights.

"Night," I yawn before passing out.

The next morning, I write her a note before I leave.

_I'm going away on business. Move into the house while I'm gone._

_There's money in my office. Any questions, talk to Mrs. Coppoletta._

_I'll be back in a few weeks,_

_E.M._

**~oOo~**

I give Peter a nod, and he orders the two men to kneel.

After three weeks of tracking down these idiots, escaping the fuzz _twice_, and getting all the information I needed, I'm so ready to return to Vegas. I laugh to myself, 'cause I like that desert better. This one, outside of Palm Springs… It's just not home. It will, however, be the final resting place for these guys.

"You ready, Button?" I ask Michael. He's in my crew. Thinks he's special just because he's Carlisle's bastard. Peter's also Carlisle's kid, but he knows how to watch his fucking mouth. They're a few years younger than I am, and they have a lot to prove.

He wipes sweat off his forehead, no doubt exhausted after all that digging. I could've told one of the two others to dig the pits, but I don't like Michael, so…

"Yeah, done," he pants.

I nod and take a pull from my cigarette. Eyes on the soon-to-be dead men. Let's just say Vegas is off limits. They tried to weasel themselves in, knowing that the Coluccis and the Maisanos are the biggest families in Nevada. We rule that fucking city. Now they're gonna pay.

"You shoulda' stayed away from Nevada, _minchioni_," I tell them, raising my Smith & Wesson. Okay, so it's not really mine. I clipped it from the man to the left. I'm not gonna get caught with my own piece here. "You had your shit in LA, but that wasn't enough for you, was it?"

I don't wait for answers.

Two shots ring out in the desert.

Two thuds as they fall to the ground.

Another job well done.

**~oOo~**

As soon as I return to Vegas, I stop by Twilight.

"Felix in?" I ask the bartender as he gives me a drink.

"Yeah, I think I saw him enter his office a few minutes ago."

I'm not in a rush, so I take a seat near the stage, hoping I'll get to see Isabella. It should be her last night here tonight, and then she'll work for me over at Dawn. It's just a few blocks away. Plus, I have a proposition for her.

Halfway through my drink, she finally appears on stage with two other bunnies.

I've clearly forgotten how irresistible she is.

Men around me ogle her shamelessly, and I wonder—with anger surging through me—how many she's…_entertained_…since my last visit.

"_Cazzo_, she can dip low," I mutter into my glass.

I notice that she's on the pole farther away, so I make my way across the room and find a seat near her. Right there. By the stage. Much better.

The corners of my mouth turn up when she spots me.

Her smile is seductive, and I chuckle—a fifty in my hand—'cause money just makes people come. Crawl, in her case.

"It's been a long time, stranger," she says in my ear, and before I know it, she's off the stage to straddle me. That works for me, and the complaints ringing out around me only fuel my satisfaction.

"How are ya, my little hummingbird?" I ask and nip at her neck.

My hands cup her ass.

Which earns me one of her little humming noises.

"I'm good." She rolls her hips over my hardening dick. "How's married life? Long honeymoon, _ciccino_?"

I laugh through my nose, shaking my head. "I was gone on business. But now…" I pull her closer and kiss her soft lips. "I'm back, and I have something I wanna ask you."

She kisses me deeply, with so much _passion_… "Mmm, I like where this is going."

_Mary, mother of…_

"Stop moving," I moan when she grinds against my erection. "Woman, I can't think when you do that."

She laughs into the crook of my neck, which makes me smile, and then she straightens—thank God—allowing for my thoughts to clear. What a woman.

"I'm listening," she says, amused. That's the first time I notice how gorgeous her eyes are. Dark, rich brown. "What's the question?"

Right. I shake my head, clearing it. "How much do you make here?"

"Not enough," she replies, not missing a beat. "I got two kids at home to support. It ain't easy. Why?"

My eyes widen. "You got kids?" Shit, she can't be older than I am. I narrow my eyes. "_Quanti anni hai_?" I go on, asking how old she is. Admittedly, it's also to see if she understands when I speak Italian.

To my surprise, she laughs. It's beautiful. "They're not mine, but yeah…" She sobers and bobs her head slowly. "I take care of them. They're my brother's. And…I just turned twenty-one."

I nod slowly, processing, and I figure this isn't the best place to have this conversation.

What I want is her.

So, I decide to just show what I can give her.

"Come with me."

She chuckles, confused. "What? Come where? Private room?" I shake my head no. "My shift just started."

"You won't work here after tonight," I inform her. "Didn't Felix tell you?"

The thing is, I don't want her to be a dancer at all anymore, though I still want her at my club—only, as a waitress. And I intend to make it worth her time. Over and over.

"Um, he mentioned your club—Dawn."

"Yeah, listen—" I clear my throat "—I'm just gonna have a quick talk with Felix, and then we're outta here, all right?"

"Okay."

**~oOo~**

"What's so special about Isabella?" Felix chuckles as I count my money.

A smile plays on my lips, and the truth is that I don't know what's so special about her. Or _if_ there is. But I want someone who I find sexy enough to get me hard. The ten minutes with Jane…shit, I had to think about my hummingbird in order to come, and I couldn't even kiss her. One look into Jane's eyes tells me that she wants flowers and rainbows—something I can't give her. Plus, I don't think she's ready for more sex. She's too juvenile and innocent. I don't find her very attractive at all.

"There's just something…" I trail off, still not able to answer properly.

He nods. "I know what you mean. I've been thinking about setting something up for Heidi."

"That's my plan for Isabella," I say and slip the envelope with my cut into my jacket. "But first I want to know everything about her."

Name, history, family, criminal record…

Felix laughs and walks over to a cabinet, swiftly pulling out a file. "Isabella Marie Savona: twenty-one years old, parents from Sicily—both deceased. Her mother in cancer, her father had a stroke." He sits down in his chair again, and I nod to myself as he goes on. "She left New York last year when her older brother was incarcerated out hea'." My eyebrows rise, but Felix gives me a dismissive wave. "Jasper Sonny Savona: twenty-five years old, moved to Las Vegas for a job. Petty crimes, in my opinion. Some stealing…" He shrugs. "It wasn't the first time he got pinched, though, so he got two years. Anyway, there's no woman involved in his life, as far as I know, so Isabella moved out here to take care of his kids—one son and one daughter." I nod again, listening. "He'll be out next year—September, I think." So, eleven months from now. "And the reason I hired her on the spot—" he smirks "—aside from her amazing body, that is… The Savonas are linked to the Mallettas in Jersey. At least her father was. Not sure about Jasper." Interesting. Carlisle's always disliked Jersey—mainly the boss, Vinny Malletta—so the few times they've done business together, Dad has been forced to let his smooth talkin' lead the way. And I happen to know that Felix has suggested doing more shit with the Mallettas, but Carlisle has shut him down each time. "So…" Felix lets out a breath. "I'd say you've got a good thing going on…if Isabella agrees."

Oh, I definitely hope she agrees.

"I'll make sure to let Heidi know her new workplace's address," I say with a smirk of my own.

**~oOo~**

Translation:

Goomah/comare = Mistress

~oOo~

After settling things with Felix, I drive Isabella over to my condo. To me, this is home. The house outside of town ain't. Just the thought of that house—not to mention Jane—makes my balls shrivel.

"You want me to be your goomah, don't you?" she asks as I open the door for her. I grin and usher her into the condo. "I'm not sure whether to be flattered or insulted."

I chuckle at her bluntness. "I'm hoping for flattered."

She sniffs, trying to look indifferent, though I see the corners of her mouth turning up. "We'll see, Juniuh. We'll see." Hearing her accent is like being out East again. I love it. Then she tilts her head, looking up at me with a pensive expression. "Or do you prefer I call you Edward?"

I shake my head no and touch her soft cheek. "Junior's good."

"Hmm, so far so good, yeah."

My God, this is a dangerous woman.

"Come on," I snicker, "let me show you the place."

And I do. Hand in hand, I show her the two-story condo that I'm willing to sign over in her name. Downstairs we have a large living room adjoined to the dining room, then the kitchen, a guest bath, and a room for recreational activities. Upstairs is where we have the bedrooms—four of them—and two more bathrooms.

"This—" I open the door to the master suite "—is where I want you to share my bed."

She steps in, not shy at all, and appraises the room—the big bed in cherry wood, the matching furniture, the large windows.

Then she turns to me, hands on hips, looking so mouthwatering.

"So, Junior…what's expected of me? And…" She smiles. "…what do I get in return?"

What's expected of her?

Well…

My eyes roam over her sexy body, and I feel the need to loosen my tie.

"Aside from my body, _tesoro mio_," she laughs softly with a wink.

_Madonn'_.

Time to get it together. "Can you cook?" I ask, clearing my throat.

I work late all the time, and I'm sick of going out. Want I want is a nice meal every now and then, some peace and quiet, and some sexy entertaining. This condo is only a few blocks away from Dawn, so I'm pretty sure I will be here often. I can always tell Jane that I'm sleeping in my office or something.

"Is the sky blue?" she shoots back, cocking a brow. "What kind of question is that, _Edward_?" She actually sneers at me. "Of course I can cook!"

_So much fire._

I grin broadly, hands stuck in my pockets. Otherwise, I'd just attack her.

"_Mi scusi, signorina_," I apologize politely. "What I want isn't much more. Just…you…and a home-cooked meal a few times a week. Commitment, of course." I point at her. "Don't fuck around on me." The thought of her with another man… I'd kill that motherfucker. "I also want you to work at Dawn, but only when I'm there—I want access to you at all times—and no more dancing. You'll be a waitress from now on." I pause. "In return, I will give you what your heart desires—"

She holds up a finger. "Don't bring up my heart, _ciccino_." She shakes her head. "I want to be taken care of, but we know hearts have nothing to do with this."

I nod once, just a dip of my chin, because what she said sounds fair. This isn't about feelings.

Though, I can't deny that I feel a pang of disappointment. For some reason.

"You're right," I concede then get back on track. "This condo will be yours. I will make sure you and your niece and nephew are provided for. Clothes, cash, food, jewelry…"

She nods slowly, eyes downcast. "And when the arrangement doesn't work anymore?"

"_If_…" Jesus Christ. Anger flares inside of me, but I manage to keep it to myself. "If it doesn't work, you walk away. The condo is yours, the cash in your purse at that point, the clothes, jewelry. It's yours."

She grins at me, an eyebrow raised. "What if I decided it didn't work out next week?"

She's good.

But I'm better.

"I'll make your life difficult if you rip me off," I tell her bluntly. The warning is as clear as day. With her upbringing—in New York, no less—her brother's activities, her father's connections… She must have at least _heard_ of my family. Or rather, my name.

"You betta' give me a time limit," she says pointedly. "I wasn't born yesterday, _Mr._ _Maisano_. And I refuse to have _you_ rip _me_ off. In fact, let's get this in writing, _sí_?"

"The mouth on you…" I laugh, both amused and impressed. "Fair enough. You have a couple witnesses?"

"Yeah. Shouldn't be a problem." She smiles smugly. "I'm pretty close with a girl named Heidi Rügg." Okay, so she's _really_ smart. By involving someone who Felix cares for, it's not like I can ice Heidi to make the contract void. Felix would be pissed. "There's also my friend who is currently watching my brother's children." I raise a brow, 'cause her smugness is still very much present. "I'm sure you've heard of her. Brianna Maisano?"

My eyes go wide. "You know my fucking sister?!" I shout, holding out my arms. "How is that even possible?!"

Isabella just laughs. "We're the same age." I'm aware. That doesn't explain— "We met at a party a few months ago." Oh. "That's also how I met Felix—at a party; not the same as where I met Brianna—but I was still at my old job back then and had no reason to quit…" She trails off.

Well, I'll be talking to Brianna about this, that's for sure. I need to get my facts straight. And there's no way my sister and Isabella are gonna remain close. Out of the fucking question. I'll just pay someone else to watch the kids while Isabella works.

"No matta'," I spit out, trying to clear my head again. "Heidi can sign, but we're leaving my sister outta this. We good?"

"Yes." Now her smile is sweeter than sugar. "We good, Juniuh."


	2. Chapter 2

**Special thanks to Lisa, Lexi, Francesca, and Kitty :)**

* * *

**Grand Tale**

**Chapter 2**

**Junior's POV**

The day after, when we sign that contract, Felix and Alec—my witnesses—call Isabella a smart cookie. I suppose she is. She's also a sin. A coveted one, on my part, and I can't wait to be with her again. We did fuck last night before she had to go pick up her niece and nephew—whom I've learned are named Nicola and Lucia—but that doesn't count because she had to leave afterward. And what I want is a routine. I want to have her all night, going to bed, waking up…she will be there when I'm there.

I've already thought of it all.

I will have weekends at the big house with the missus, which includes family dinners at my parents' house—unless I'm working, of course—and I will tell Jane that the commute will be too much. Hence my staying at the condo in town from Monday to Friday.

Felix envies me…for about five minutes…before he decides to buy a condo here in town for Heidi.

Everyone's happy, eh?

Yeah.

I grin crookedly as Isabella hands back the pen to Felix.

Our names are on there now, in ink.

"You're stuck with me now, hummingbird," I say, drawing her close. Two years. That's what I put down as time limit if she wants to walk away with the condo. I nuzzle her cheek and ignore the guys behind me. "We should celebrate. On Monday when I get back to town. All of us."

As much as I hate it, it's Friday, and I have dinner tomorrow with my parents, brother, sisters, and the wife. Carlisle, Esme, and their children will be there, too.

"I can make dinner," she offers as I kiss her neck. And that right there? Cooking dinner? Yeah, that's what I'm talking about. The way into a man's heart. _Fuck_. No hearts. Forget I said that. "That'll give me a couple of days to finish up things at my old place."

"You need any help?" I ask, standing at full height. "I can send a few guys ova'."

She shakes her head. "It's literally just some clothes, the kids' toys, and photo albums. Then cleaning."

I nod. "And you have a car?" I go on without waiting. "No matta'. You'll get a new one."

Behind me, I hear Heidi tell Felix, "You give me new car, too, yes?"

German fuckin' accent. It does something to Felix. I never saw the appeal.

Isabella smiles up at me, indicating that she wants to speak for only me to hear, so I dip down to her level. "My car works fine, you know."

I smile back and shake my head. "I want to buy you a new one."

End of discussion.

With Isabella still in my arms, I face the guys. "Dinner at Isabella's place on Monday." Then I look back to Isabella. "What time should we say?"

She shrugs. "Seven?"

And back to Felix. I raise an eyebrow, silently asking if we have anything planned. Things often come up, but usually only for Emmett and Alec. I have my club, my legit business, and then what Felix hires me for—taking people out. Only, that isn't a weekly occurrence. Just every once in a while, and mostly it's when others try to move in on our territory.

"Seven sounds good," Felix says with a nod. "And no wives."

That goes without saying. "No wives."

Which means Emmett will probably bring his girlfriend—something that explains the smile on his face right now.

Before leaving, I tell Emmett, Felix, and Alec that I'll see them for dinner tomorrow, and then I spend a few minutes outside, kissing the daylights out of Isabella.

**~oOo~**

By the time I arrive at the house, Jane's asleep in her bed. _Our_ bed, I suppose, but I "accidently" fall asleep on the couch in the living room after my shower. I sleep well, waking up rested and refreshed to the smell of coffee. That kinda makes me smile. Maybe, if Jane at least knows how to manage a household, I don't have to be completely miserable here on the weekends.

However, when I enter the kitchen, wearing pajama pants and an undershirt, I notice that Jane isn't there. It's Mrs. Coppoletta.

"Good morning, Edward." She greets me with a motherly smile then rushes over to pour a cup for me. "Hungry?"

I nod and accept the coffee. "_Grazie mille_. Jane's not up?" At that, she frowns and busies herself with the waffle iron. Now, I've always been good at reading people, but that's not a skill you need with Mrs. Coppoletta. Her husband used to work for Carlisle but got clipped a few years ago when we were new out here. I tracked down the killer and popped one in his head. Since then, I've taken care of Mrs. Coppoletta. She's like a grandmother—one who wears her heart on her sleeve—and you don't _ever_ want to see your grandmother upset. She's been around since I was a kid; I know her.

"Tell me, Carmen," I say quietly, sipping my coffee. "What's wrong?" She shakes her head, avoiding eye contact, but sighs as if she's ready to throw down the gauntlet. I repeat my question. "_Che cosa_?"

She sighs again, facing me slowly. Hesitating. "Your wife…"

"What of her?" I raise a brow. "Out with it."

A third sigh, this one drawn out to the point where I don't know if I'm frustrated or amused.

Maybe both.

"Jane is…very used to having everything…_handed…_to her, _sí_?"

I snort a laugh into my mug and take a slow sip as I try to come up with a polite answer.

Oh, she's used to being a princess, all right.

"How has it been?" I ask, scratching my chin. "These past weeks—has she settled in?"

Carmen huffs and places her hands on her hips, at which I grin. "She's met some friends." I nod at her, remembering that Mom promised to introduce Jane to some friends' daughters. "They've been here a lot."

"Ahuh…? Go on."

Umpteenth sigh. "I didn't expect to be their slave." The fuck? "When they're here, they ring that little bell—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. What fucking bell?" I shake my head. "No matta'. You're not supposed to obey her commands." That is just ridiculous. Mrs. Coppoletta's tasks don't go beyond cleaning and cooking, and…to be honest, I expected Jane to take over the latter.

I mean…she's a woman.

"I'll talk to her," I tell her.

**~oOo~**

When Jane enters the kitchen, I've already eaten breakfast, showered, and dressed for the day. I was really just waiting for her, while reading the paper and drinking more coffee.

Since I married her a little over three weeks ago, this is the first time I've seen her—not counting the morning after when I took off for Los Angeles.

She still looks too young for me. Too doll-like.

"You're home," she says, surprised, then smiles widely. She doesn't approach, though, for which I'm thankful. Maybe my expression tells her not to come close. Instead she sits down across from me at the table and digs into the breakfast Carmen made her.

"You usually sleep this late?" I ask, checking my watch. It's past noon and we're supposed to drive over to my parents in two hours.

She shrugs. "Sometimes. How was work?"

"Good."

"Where were you? You only said 'out of town'…"

I nod. "That's where I was—out of town."

"Oh."

Yeah, she stops there. If there's one thing she knows, it's to shut up about work. That's how she was raised—prepared by her father. Don't ask, don't tell, and pretend you don't see or know anything.

"Listen…" I clear my throat. "We live about forty minutes outside of town, so I'm gonna stay in my old condo during the week. Then I'll be here on Friday night for the weekend."

"Um…" Judging by the look on her face, I'd say she's both relieved and disappointed. That's good. It only proves that she's not fully ready for this. "You'll be here Saturdays and Sundays, then?"

"Yes. On Saturdays we have dinner with the family, and then on Sundays we go to church before we get together at Carlisle's house."

She nods in understanding.

"Another thing," I continue, "Mrs. Coppoletta is only here to make sure the house is clean. She cooks, too, but…" I stare at her. "Can't you cook?"

She gives me the same look she did when I asked her if she was a virgin—she's appalled. "Me? Cook?" She shakes her head furiously. "Oh, no. I don't cook."

Well, isn't that just great.

"What the fuck _do_ you do, then?" I ask impatiently.

She shrugs. Again.

I wanna shoot myself.

Or her.

**~oOo~**

"Edward!" Mom exclaims after opening the door. "It's been too long; get over here."

I obey and let her hug the shit out of me, and then I kiss her on the forehead, quickly followed by polite small-talk about…nothing, really. Then it's Jane's turn, and Mom gives her a light hug, asking her how she is as we remove our jackets. For Las Vegas, it's damn cold.

The house, as Mom ushers us into the dining room, is loud and lively. Kids running around, babies wailing—Felix and Emmett each have two children—women gossiping while setting the table, and men talking about politics. There's shouting, plates clanking, laughing, words exchanged in both English and Italian, and…I wonder how the hell Jane is ever going to fit in. Luckily, Emmett's wife—Rosalie—is also a politician's little princess.

Emmett married her five years ago, when he was twenty-one and Rosalie was nineteen. She's the daughter of a Florida Senator—a man who will soon begin his campaign for his third term. We fund his campaign and give him a small cut of the profits, and he makes sure we have smooth sailing when our shipments come in from Miami. Whenever we run into trouble with the fuzz down there, he makes it go away.

It's an alliance that has resulted in millions.

It's all business.

Speaking of business…we leave all that out on weekends. As we take our seats around the table, it's insignificant bullshit all 'round. Rosalie talks to Jane about shopping, Alice—Felix and Emmett's little sister—speaks to my sisters about school, Mom and Esme are fussing over the children… I'm not really paying attention. I barely even listen to Carlisle and Dad who are talking about the race tracks.

I tune it all out, wishing I was in town.

With a certain Italian bunny.

**~oOo~**

On Sunday after church…and a good meal at Carlisle and Esme's, I drive us back to our house.

Jane is silent, and so am I.

But I'm pretty certain our thoughts are aligned. At least I hope so.

Mrs. Coppoletta rarely joins my family on Saturdays, but she's there on Sundays, and today…

I sigh heavily.

The topic as we ate was children.

Carmen started it, though she definitely didn't mean for us to hurry with having kids, but Mom and Esme thought differently. They told us repeatedly that they can't wait for Jane to get pregnant. Carlisle was smiling in approval, and I'm sure he feels the same. Children would only strengthen the godforsaken union I now find myself in. The only family members I have on my side, really, are Alice, Victoria, Brianna—the three seem to have something against Jane, which I can't fault them for—and Felix and Alec. The rest pretty much want us to start trying right away.

Technically, Jane can be pregnant, since we were together on the wedding night, but… No way. I don't want that to happen, and I have no desire to be with her again. Ever, really. But definitely not now.

I plan to avoid sex with her for as long as I can.

"I'm not ready to be a mother," Jane whispers, breaking the silence in the car. "But…I guess it's not really up to me."

No. It's up to me. I'm the man. Lucky for her, I don't want children, either. At least not with her.

"A friend of mine in New York…her husband uses condoms."

I laugh under my breath. "We're Catholic, Jane. We won't use condoms." I use condoms—well, I have in the past. But that's different.

Besides, it doesn't matter, because we won't have sex.

"I know—" she swallows audibly "—and all of my friends are Catholic, too. I wouldn't tell anyone, Edw-"

"Save it," I tell her. "We won't use anything." I give her a sideways glance and decide to be honest. "And we won't have sex. 'Cause we're not attracted to each other."

"Oh," she breathes out. "Well, I wouldn't go that far-"

"I would." I chuckle. "Hey, I can only speak for myself, but this…" I wave a hand between us. "…it's business. All right? So, let's just…forget it."

She doesn't speak again.

And that night, I go to bed in a guest room.

When I leave the house on Monday morning, there's a smile on my lips.

'Cause I'll see my hummingbird soon.

**~oOo~**

Translation:

_Ti piace il mio cazzo, bella ragazza?_ = You like my cock, beautiful girl?

_Ti piace quando ti sfondo tutta? __Si che ti piace_. = You like it when I fuck you hard? I know you do.

_Mi fai godere così tanto_. = You feel so good.

~oOo~

As soon as I arrive at Dawn, I tell my bartender to send Isabella to my office when she gets here. Then I make my way out back and spend a couple of hours going through my books and, in my opinion, I have it easy. Whereas Alec and Emmett have countless balls in the air at the same time—scams, robberies, frauds, shipments—I don't. I have my legit business, I have a small crew—just Michael and Peter, Carlisle's bastard sons—and I have my contracts. I answer to Felix—the underboss—and that's it. No worries about the Gaming Commission, crooked higher-ups, dealers…

_Knock, knock._

With a ridiculous smile on my face, I'm quick to check the mirror and run a comb through my hair.

"Yeah, come in," I say, placing my wedding band in the top drawer. And there she is, looking amazing. "Isabella." Her smile is seductive as always, and _fuck_, I can't wait to get inside of her tonight. "You're looking gorgeous."

"_Grazie, ciccino_," she responds softly as she rounds my desk. I push out my chair, and she ends up in my lap. She also drops a bag on the floor, and then slides her hands up my arms. "Have you eaten lunch yet?"

I shake my head, watching my hand as it moves up her body. Over her smooth thighs, across the flimsy fabric of her black little dress, up her flat stomach, and I don't stop until I cup her breast in my hand. I smile when I spot the Dawn logo on her dress. It makes her feel more…mine.

"Well, are you hungry?"

My eyes find hers, and I cup her cheek. "Yeah, I am," I answer honestly, though I wouldn't mind waiting. "I just need a little something first." I lean in and brush my lips over hers. She hums softly, 'causing me to smile. "Hummingbird," I whisper, chuckling.

"I don't…" She nibbles on my bottom lip. "…think hummingbirds actually hum. Or…you mean the wings? Is that—do they make that noise?"

I have no idea, and I couldn't care less. The name fits _her_.

I shrug then deepen the kiss, pushing my tongue into her mouth. She moans quietly, spurring me on, and I let my hand disappear under her dress. _Fuck_. I reach her panties and cup her pussy, which makes her whimper. It also makes my cock throb.

_What this woman does to me…_

"I want you," I groan, pushing her panties aside. With my thumb, I massage her clit while two fingers slip inside of her. Her breathing hitches, and I realize that things have changed. I'm not looking for a quick release at this moment. This woman does something indescribable to me, and I find myself wanting to kiss her damn feet. I want to pleasure her, make her scream, and watch her face as she comes.

I want to tie her to me.

"Get up," I say, breathing heavily. "Hands on the desk. And pull down your panties."

She obeys, giggling, and I give her ass a smack…just because I wanted to.

It's a fine fucking ass.

"We can go get some lunch across the street," I mutter, pushing down my pants and underwear, "but I need to fuck you first."

I don't put on a rubber.

Like I said: I want to tie her to me.

"No need to leave, Junior," she moans as I finger her. I spread her wetness around, simultaneously kissing her neck. "I brought lunch for you."

I moan and replace my fingers with my cock. "_Fuck_." I grip her hips and set a fast pace. "You cooked for me?" She nods as I pound into her from behind. "Oh, yeah? What'd you make?"

She doesn't answer my question, but that's okay. Instead she starts moaning every time my hips slap against her ass. She meets every thrust, too, which makes it all rougher. Then she starts rambling shit in Italian—shit about my cock and how good I feel. Fucking dirty talker. I love it. And if she's into that, well…

"_Ti piace il mio cazzo, bella ragazza_?" I groan breathlessly. _"Ti piace quando ti sfondo tutta? __Si che ti piace."_

She clamps down on me—so fucking hard—and cries out my name, mixed with "yes" and "more" and "please". Crazy damn bunny. This is what I wished for, and now I have it. Maybe my life doesn't suck anymore. Looking down to see where my dick disappears into her, I decide that no…no, my life doesn't suck. At all. _Cazzo_. And this time there's no glove.

Without much of a warning, the pleasure builds up inside of me before exploding. At the same time, I hear Isabella choke on a gasp as she comes, too. I groan and breathe heavily, still thrusting in and out of her, though at a slower pace. Almost lazily.

"So good," I breathe out, dropping my forehead to her shoulder. _"Mi fai godere così tanto."_

"Mmm…" She shivers as I kiss her neck. "Amazing."

After a few seconds of doing…nothing, really, I pull out of her and tuck myself back into my pants. Then I just slump down in my chair, spent in the best ways.

"Aww, Juniuh," she complains, at which my eyebrows rise. "You didn't use a condom?" She pulls up her panties.

I chuckle and hold up my hands. "Slipped my mind." She clearly doesn't believe me, so I widen my arms and go for both innocence and defense. "Hey, what's with the look? I swear I forgot. It's your—your fault—" I nod and point at her "—that I forgot." My eyes widen, too. "Your body. It's a distraction."

She shakes her head, amused—a lot better than pissed off—and then she walks around the desk to sit down in one of the two chairs there. She's also carrying that bag of hers, and now that I've gotten what I _first_ wanted, I'm damn starving. So…she got food in there or what?

"Hungry?" Her smile is teasing as she reveals a lunch box. "I made pork chops."

Oh, _hell_ yeah.

I accept the food from her and tell her, "Go clean yourself up first. Then we'll eat."

**~oOo~**

That night, twenty minutes past seven, I enter the condo, and I'm met by a full house.

Felix, Heidi, Emmett, Angela, and Alec are already here. It smells fucking delicious, and I grin to myself when I hear laughing kids and a cursing Isabella.

Stealthily, I make my way to the kitchen, and I stay hidden.

They're all in there, since the kitchen is pretty big, and I hear Felix, Em, and Alec chuckling and talking about sports, whereas the women appear to be with Isabella at the stove, 'cause I hear plates, pans, and glasses clinking and clattering. I can only assume that Nicola and Lucia are running around somewhere in the middle. I haven't met them yet, so all I know is their names and that Nicola is five and Lucia three.

"Look at them—so adorable." That's Angela. Nice woman, I guess. Lives in Reno, though I suspect Emmett will move her to Vegas soon. "Emmett, don't you want a little _bambino_ with me?"

The guys laugh, and Emmett says, "Like I don't already have two other kids to worry about? Christ—don't be cute."

Then there's something crashing to the floor, maybe a pan.

"Stop running!" Isabella shouts. "I almost knocked you two ova'. You should go wash up. Dinner's almost ready, and Juniuh will be here any minute."

I chuckle under my breath.

"Sorry, Zia Bella," I hear a sweet voice giggle. Must be Lucia.

"Yeah, sorry, Zia Bella." And that must be Nicola.

_Bella_. Well, that's accurate.

Said children come running out of the kitchen then, but they don't see me by the wall. They just run past, and all I see are two heads with dark curls.

I figure my eavesdropping is done for the night and walk into the kitchen. And it's a wonderful sight. The men are sitting at the table, drinking beer and playing cards, and the women are by the stove, doing…making…cooking and shit. Heidi's chopping vegetables, Angela's stirring something, and Isabella…_God_. I watch as she bends over to get something from the oven.

"Oh!" Emmett shouts. "Look what the cat dragged in!"

Everyone turns to me, happy smiles on their faces, and this moment feels perfect.

**~oOo~**

_Madonn'_, Isabella can cook. Seriously, like a chef or some shit. Her lasagna? Fuck me. And her side dishes…the stuffed artichokes and mushrooms, they make my mouth water, and the homemade zucchini bread? Forget about it. Everything's delicious. She even has her own special seasoning that she makes.

We all sit around dining room table, eating, talking, drinking wine, laughing…eating some more. I have Isabella on one side—Lucia and Nicola following—then Alec on my other side. Felix is at the other head of the table, Heidi on one side, and then Em on the other with Angela between himself and Alec. Food all around. This is how it's supposed to be.

"Can I go to play now?" Nicola asks. Despite being what seems like a mischievous little kid, it's clear that he adores Isabella. He shows great respect, but he's not shy. Since I got here, I've spoken to him a little, and he's been grinning and talkative.

"Not yet, _topolino_." Isabella shakes her head. "You need to eat more. That goes for you, too, Lucia." She kisses the top of the girl's head. "I'm sick of seeing you two so skinny." Lucia giggles when Isabella pinches her cheeks. "No more skin and bones."

She's a mother in my eyes. She's been taking care of Nicola and Lucia for a year now. And with meager pay, since she mostly worked at Felix's club during the day. The tips aren't as good then.

"You should've told me you were having trouble before, Isabella," Felix comments, looking pretty upset, though he's hiding it well. "I would've—I would've given you a raise or better shifts…"

Felix has a thing for taking in strays and helping them get on their feet. Not for nothing, of course; he helps, and then people owe him. But I'm nodding with him, because I agree in this case.

However, Isabella shakes her head dismissively and waves him off. "It wasn't _that_ bad. I just… It's better now." She gives me a quick smile, one that I return. I also squeeze her thigh under the table. "Now I can make sure everything smells like food again. I love cooking."

That sounds amazing to me.


	3. Chapter 3

**I owe Lisa, Lexi, Francesca, and Mary lots and lots :)**

**Several time jumps ahead! **

* * *

**Grand Tale**

**Chapter 3**

**Junior's POV**

Over the next few months, we all settle into our new routine. Basically, it's my routine. For Isabella, Nicola, and Lucia, it's more of a new life. There's always a home-cooked meal waiting, whether it's breakfast, lunch, or dinner. There are new toys, new clothes, and new bikes for the kids. I gotta say I cracked more than a few smiles when I saw Lucia on her little tricycle. And…Isabella. I spoil her, and she spoils me in return. She doesn't ask questions, but she sees if I've had a bad day and she offers massages, sex, meals, support… Anything and everything. And I love taking her out on the town. Dinners, shows, walks…

Meanwhile, I keep up the act in front of my family on the weekends. We go to dinners, to church, to a few "social functions", and then when we get back to the big house, Jane and I part ways. No pretense. Okay, I admit, she doesn't avoid me like I avoid her, and she _has_ been trying to engage me in simple conversations, but I'm just not interested.

She has her own life out there, plenty of friends, and she _loves_ spending my money, but I don't care—I've set a limit, and God help her if she spends more than that. I'd wring her fucking neck.

Jane is a headache.

Isabella is the medication.

I live for my weekdays when I'm in town. Granted, I've had a few _business trips_, but it's all good. I do my job, and when I'm at the club, Isabella's waitressing until she has to pick up the kids from kindergarten or preschool.

The nights are my favorites—the nights I spend with my hummingbird.

The holidays, a couple of months ago, I dutifully spent Christmas with the family, but I was with Isabella for New Year's. Felix, Heidi, Emmett, Angela, Alec, and his new bunny—Kate—were there, too. Dinner, drinking, toasting… Good times. And then when everyone had left, Isabella and I spent the entire night in bed—not sleeping.

I guess there's only one thing I never expected.

I never thought I'd fall in love with Isabella.

How wrong was I?

It's nothing I can act on; it wouldn't be fair, because I can't give her marriage—and it does suck to feel trapped and unable to fully be with the one I want—though I'm almost certain that Isabella knows already. I can't hide that shit. There's a lot I can hide, almost everything in my life, but not that. So, I may not use the words, but I show her.

**~oOo~**

Translation:

_Ti amo per sempre_ = I love you forever

_Il mio bell'uccellino_ = My beautiful little bird

_Mamaluke_ = Italian American slang for idiot

_Tesoro_ = Treasure

_Mannaggia, sei così bella_ = Damn, you're so beautiful

~oOo~

I enter the condo quietly, mindful when I close the door. I don't switch on the lights. After the three days I just spent in Chicago chasing down some mamaluke who tried to scam Felix, I'm exhausted. I barely even had the strength to go down to Twilight and get the rest of my cut. I did it, mind you, though it sure was tempting to say "fuck it" and do it tomorrow.

Stifling a yawn, I drag my ass up the stairs and into our bedroom.

The room is dark, but the city lights still allow me to see Isabella's sleeping form in our bed.

Once I've removed my clothes, I'm quick to join her in bed. Slowly, I peel off the covers and start kissing my way up her body. She's wearing dark blue satin shorts and a matching camisole. Nothing provocative, but still more than enough to turn me on. Her new curves also help. Her hips have widened slightly, her breasts are bigger, her ass is fucking flawless now, and her stomach is slightly softer. Just a size or two make a phenomenal difference. She's healthy and so gorgeous.

"_Ti amo per sempre_," I whisper, knowing that she's still asleep. My lips brush over her chest, and I gently nudge her legs apart.

I reach her neck and add slight pressure to my kisses, my hands roaming her body, and after a few moments, she begins to stir.

"Isabella," I murmur as I slip my hand under the fabric of her camisole. Her skin is soft and smooth under my touch. She hums, causing me to smile as I kiss her jaw. "_Il mio bell'uccellino_."

"Mmm…" She threads her fingers through my hair. "You have an obsession with birds, _tesoro_?" Now she's teasing me. I chuckle quietly, lips ghosting over her mouth. "Hi."

"Hey." I kiss her pouty lips.

"You're home," she sighs softly, and it's my turn to hum—in agreement. "I have something to tell you."

I lick my lips and peck her a few times. "Oh, yeah?"

Kneeling between her parted legs, I pull her up into a sitting position and tug on the hem of her top. Lifting her arms, she lets me pull it off her, revealing her luscious tits. Then she plops back against the mattress, and I swallow a moan as I watch her breasts jiggle a little.

"What do you have to tell me?" I ask, moving on to her shorts. With another tug, I pull them down and toss them…somewhere. "_Mannaggia_, _sei così bella_."

She smiles as I cover my body with hers. I kiss her deeply, groaning when our tongues meet.

"_Ciccino_," she whispers, pecking my lips. "I'm pregnant."

One might think I didn't want to hear that, or that I'm shocked… Who the fuck am I kidding? I _am_ shocked. Or maybe…yeah, surprised is more like it. I should be neither, since we haven't used protection. Regardless, I can only smile. It feels good. Better than I can explain.

"Good," I whisper back, giving her chin a little nip. I can see the relief rolling off her, so I add, "You're gonna be the best mother to our children."

That makes her laugh. "As in more than one?"

"Oh, yeah." I grin and kiss her forcefully, needing her. "Lemme have you, hummingbird."

She kisses me and nods, and then I sink into her with a low moan.

It's unhurried. We take our time—I even stop to kiss my way down her body—and I send a silent prayer to God for blessing us with a child as I kiss her belly.

The only thing missing is that I want her to feel the same I do.

But I say nothing, because it won't happen.

**~oOo~**

Approximately eight months later, Isabella gives birth to our son.

It's bittersweet, because I can't love them more than I already do—at least that's how it feels—but I can't give Isabella my name. Only my son has my name.

I name him Anthony Jasper Maisano—Jasper because it matters to Isabella, and I'm fine with that. He's her family. And the look in her eyes when I told her I'd honor her wish was enough to live on. So much gratitude.

I admit to shedding more than a few tears when I hold my son for the first time. He looks just like me, too, which fills me with pride. If we ever have a girl, I want her to look like Isabella.

Isabella's brother, who was released from prison a few months ago, is out in the waiting room, along with Felix, Heidi, Alec, and Kate. It feels good to have them here, because they know what I'm going through. Okay, Jasper doesn't. Not really. He doesn't know that I love his sister, but the rest have figured it out. They also know that our lives are the same. Heidi is also pregnant, and Felix hates that he'll be separating his child—it'll be his third in all, but his first with Heidi—from Heidi by name. And Alec sees his own future. Carlisle and Dad have found Alec's future wife, and it sure as hell ain't Kate.

It's some broad from Sicily—one who can't speak a word in English—but she comes from a very powerful family, and Carlisle sees a lot of scratch coming in if we form an alliance. Said family is big in heroin, and with this alliance, we will be the distributors stateside.

It's life.

Another thorn in my fucking side is the wife. She's made it abundantly clear that she wants me, and though I make the rules—therefore making it easy to make sure she keeps her distance—it's only a matter of time before my family begins to wonder why Jane isn't pregnant yet. So…_her_, it's easy to push away. Carlisle—if he finds out that I'm not even being intimate with my wife? Not so much. He'd see it as a threat, as me dishonoring the alliance with Jane's family in New York. He doesn't care who I fuck on the side, of course, but he sees children as a way of strengthening bonds.

A child is a powerful pawn—his words.

It'd be my word against Jane's if my wife spoke up, and my word is what matters, but a small seed planted would be enough to make Carlisle suspicious.

"Hey." Isabella's whisper brings me back to the present. "I fell asleep?"

I smile at her then look down at Anthony who's sleeping in my arms. "It's been a long day," I chuckle quietly, looking back to Isabella. "Get some more sleep."

She shakes her head. "There are people waiting to come in, no? It's okay."

I hesitate, so protective of my loved ones. "You sure you're up for it?"

"Yes."

I relent.

Soon, we have our friends joining us in Isabella's hospital room, congratulating us.

I wouldn't admit to it out loud, but I wish my parents and my sisters were here, too.

**~oOo~**

After church, on the way over to Carlisle and Esme's house, it feels like God is testing my restraint.

"_Edward_," Jane whines.

"OH!" I shout. I slam down on the brakes, making us skid to a halt, and turn to glare at her. "Cut that shit out!"

She's been on and on about this since I got back to the house yesterday morning.

"I'm your wife, dammit!" she cries out in fury. "What husband doesn't want to be with his wife?"

My grin is sinister as I wag my finger at her. "Watch that _fucking_ mouth of yours." I point to my temple. "A piece of advice? Don't push it, 'cause I just might snap."

It'd be so easy to just fucking backhand her.

She sniffles. "Are you seeing someone else?"

"No," I laugh.

"Oh…"

The rest of the ride is quiet, and I use the time to think about Isabella and our son.

Time passes too quickly. Anthony's already seven months old, and he does new things every day. Nicola and Lucia—who live in the condo next door with Jasper—love coming over to fuss over my boy. Which they do often. Now that Isabella's not working anymore, she usually ends up taking care of Jasper's kids, too, especially when he's out of town.

He works for Felix now. Nothing serious yet—he has to prove himself, make his bones—but he's a good low-man, eager to work. And he's smart, too. Fast and sneaky. He doesn't talk back, but he's still fierce. I like that.

When we get to Carlisle's house, Jane is quick to leave the car and slam the door shut.

"Ungrateful brat," I mutter under my breath as I follow her. By the time I reach her, Esme opens the door to invite us in. The house doesn't smell like food yet—they left the church only ten minutes before we did—but I know that much has been prepared since earlier, so I doubt we'll have to wait long.

"Your father, Carlisle, and Felix are in the den," Esme tells me as I enter the house. "We're just waiting for a few more."

I nod in understanding and leave the hallway to seek out the men.

On my way—as I pass one of the guest rooms—I accidently hear something coming from one of my sisters. It's Brianna, and she's whispering—which definitely piques my interest—to Alice. More than that, I heard her mention Isabella's name. Since the door isn't closed completely, it's not hard to hear what they're saying.

_"…remember? She took care of her niece and nephew while her brother was in prison,"_ I hear Brianna whisper. My brows knit together. _"And when she was at work, I used to babysit the children. Then one day, out of the blue, she doesn't need me anymore."_

_"Yeah, I remember,"_ Alice responds quietly. _"What about her?"_

Brianna lowers her voice even more, but I can still hear. _"I saw her last night in town. After the movie?" _She pauses. _"Get this, she wasn't alone."_

I pinch the bridge of my nose, hoping to God Isabella wasn't with Anthony.

_"Who was she with?" _Alice asks.

_"Some dark-haired guy—little curly, just long enough to be in a ponytail. He had a small scar next to his eye."_ Jasper, of course. _"But there was someone else, too. A baby."_

"Shit," I groan under my breath.

_"And, Alice? He looked…Just. Like. Edward."_

Fuck.

With a fake grin plastered on my face, I walk into the room.

They look shocked, to say the least.

"What's going on in here?" I ask, twirling my finger in a circle. Brianna knows the grin on my face—the one I put on when I'm really _fucking_ furious. "You don't wanna be rude, do ya? I mean—talkin' about _me_…shouldn't you let me _be_ here then?"

Brianna holds her hands up. "Junior-"

"Fucking save it," I hiss. "Gossiping about your own _brother_?" I widen my arms.

"No! We were just—just talking, a-and-"

"_Non me ne frega un cazzo_!" I shout, telling her that I don't give a fuck, but then I lower my voice, because I don't want to attract a goddamn crowd. "If you got something to say, Brianna, say it to _me_." I poke my chest and glare at her. "Don't disrespect me and go behind my back. _Capisce_?"

"Oh! You wanna talk about disrespect, _big brother_?" She returns my glare with one of her own. "How about taking your own advice, huh? How about being honest!"

I laugh at that shit. "I don't have to answer to you, sis."

"But I have to answer to _you_?"

"You do if you're talking about my life!"

The little brat gets in my face—well, she tries to; she's really short—and shakes her fist at me. "Family concerns me, Junior," she practically growls. It's cute. Had I not been pissed at her, I would've kissed her on the forehead and called her adorable. God knows I love my sisters, and they have so much fire in them, but they can be annoying as hell. Not so much Victoria, but _this_ one? I shake my head. She's way out of line, and I could just slap her. "And that little boy is your kid, isn't he?"

I don't reply. While it's none of her business, I won't deny my own son.

"He looked just like you," she whispers harshly. "Know what else? I heard Isabella calling him Anthony. That's your middle name!"

Reining in my temper, I put a sinister smile on my face and cup her cheek. "It's none of your business, Brianna. Nor is it Alice's." I jerk my chin at my quiet cousin, and Brianna slaps my hand away. "Ay! Watch it."

She huffs. "I want to meet my nephew." Then she smirks. "Or else…"

My eyebrows rise as I stare her down. "That a threat?"

"No. It's a promise." She nods and points at herself. "I'll tell Mom and Dad that you got yourself a mistress and a son."

I could laugh at her childish antics, but I don't.

Dad wouldn't care, despite what my sheltered sister seems to think. Mom would, but that doesn't matter. However, if it got back to Carlisle—Alice's fucking father—things could get ugly in the future. I can't be punished, but Carlisle could very well ruin things between Isabella and me.

He's a threat.

He's also my boss—_the_ boss.

I have no say.

**~oOo~**

On Monday, I leave my club early, only to drive out to my parents' house to pick up Brianna and Alice.

While Brianna's beaming brighter than the sun, my lips are pressed together in a grim line as I drive us toward what I call home. Alice also looks happy, though not as much as Brianna. Alice isn't supposed to be here, but my sister insisted she come, too. Plus, since Alice knows everything, I just said "fuck it" and allowed them both to tag along.

I'll make them regret it if they talk.

"I thought you sold the condo before you married Jane," Brianna mentions pensively.

I tighten my grip on the steering wheel, hating, dreading, fearing. Now, there's not much in life I fear—I'm a killer with no qualms about it—but the life I share with Isabella and Anthony? That's everything to me. My safe haven. And the thought of mixing my two lives together…

I sigh.

I know that Brianna and Alice won't tell anyone—unless they want to suffer—but that doesn't calm my fears completely. Just the idea of someone close to Carlisle finding out about Isabella makes my blood run cold. I don't count the guys, of course, seeing as most of us lead double lives, Felix most of all. Much like me, he can't stand the sight of his wife and has even talked to Carlisle—his own father, mind you—about a divorce. Yeah, that didn't go over very well. However, Felix already has two children with his wife, so there's not much pressure on him, other than that he has to stay with his wife. Divorce is not accepted. The mere word is a curse. Sort of like mentioning Jane's name in the condo. It doesn't happen. She doesn't exist when I'm with Isabella. We have our little bubble.

Speaking of… "No talk about Jane or family when we get there." I give both girls a look in the rearview mirror that says how serious I am. "Not a single word."

"I promise," Brianna says with a nod.

Alice follows, also nodding. "_Prometto_."

Still wound up and agitated, I pat my pockets for my smoke and light one up.

**~oOo~**

Translation:

_Piccolo tesoro_ = Little treasure

~oOo~

When I open the door to the condo, the first thing I do is breathe in. It's what I always do, and it always smells so damn delicious. The next thing is the smile on my face. Also automatic. Though I'm still pissed off, Isabella's presence works wonders with me. And this time it's the sound of her voice. I know that she's in the kitchen preparing dinner—most likely with Anthony on her hip—and she's singing softly to him.

"Isabella," I call, heading for the kitchen as I loosen my tie. With my sister and cousin removing their scarves and cardigans and whatnot, I figure I have a few seconds before they join us in the kitchen. 'Cause I haven't told Isabella about our company tonight. And I was right. My hummingbird is standing by the stove, gently swaying Anthony from side to side as she adds herbs to the sauce she's making. She smiles when she sees me. "I'm home," I say dumbly with a silly smile, walking over to them. I wrap my arms around them both, eager to have them close after the weekend I've had. "God, how I missed you two."

Anthony giggles and grabs my face, at which I make growling noises against his cheeks.

"Look at Daddy being all funny," Isabella chuckles as I pepper his cute little face with noisy kisses. "Oh, so now it's okay to smile, huh?"

"That's 'cause Daddy's home." I grin and playfully nibble on his nose. "Isn't that right, _piccolo tesoro_? 'Course it is." With a final kiss, I focus my attention on Isabella. "Has he been cranky today?" I tuck a piece of hair behind her ear.

I know that he's teething, and my boy can scream like no other. Aside from that, though, he's fucking perfect. He's mature for his young age, already crawling, pushing himself up when he has something to hold onto, and he's said "Ma-ma" several times.

This is one of the many moments throughout my day that I want to tell Isabella how much I love her. She's so amazing with Anthony, and… And nothing. Why wish for something you can't have? It's pointless.

All I can do is tell my son that I love him—something I do often.

"Understatement," Isabella responds…before stiffening in my embrace.

Right. We have company. And I'm willing to be that both Brianna and Alice are standing behind me in the doorway.

I sigh and give Isabella an apologetic smile. "I tried calling you earlier," I say quietly. "I'm—I'm sorry for the ambush. My sister saw you with Anthony—on Saturday? Here in town, and she put…" I rub the back of my neck. "She put two and two together."

"Oh," she breathes out, relaxing, if only a little. Her eyes are still trained on the two women behind me. "I see. Well, I suppose it's a good thing I always cook for a football team, huh?" She smiles, but I can see that she's nervous.

I smile and cup her cheek. "Hummingbird," I whisper, leaning down a little. "This is our home, yeah?" She nods minutely. "Good. Be yourself."

Her smile widens slightly, and I breathe out in relief when I see how she squares her shoulders—my strong and fiery girl appearing again.

With that, I scoop up Anthony—'cause I miss the little man—and then I turn around to face Brianna and Alice. Can't say I'm surprised to see my sister's eyes welling up. She's an emotional one.

"Brianna, Alice, this is Isabella, and," I chuckle as Anthony hides his face in the crook of my neck, "this is Anthony." I look down Isabella and squeeze her hand. "Isabella, this is my sister and cousin—second cousin…no matta'."

I know that Isabella and Brianna know each other already, but this feels more official.

"So nice to see you again, Isabella," Brianna gushes, and I think she surprises all of us when she comes forward and hugs Isabella tightly. It feels good, though. Very good. The tension shifts, and by the time the greetings are over, Brianna and Alice insist on helping Isabella with dinner. They talk, start getting to know each other, and I sit back with a beer and cuddle up with my little boy.

And later that night, after making love to my hummingbird, she tells me that she's pregnant again.

Despite the…_nuisances_…surrounding me, everything is still good in life, and I can't wait to see Isabella's body changing with a pregnancy again.

**~oOo~**

In order to make calculated decisions, I'm not supposed to let moods and feelings affect me, and I'm definitely not supposed to allow them to be _reasons_ for a decision. But Isabella brings it out of me. Now, for instance, when she's six months pregnant with our second child and riding my cock…I want to tell her that I love her. The room is dimly lit, creating shadows. Her stomach looks more protruding, her breasts look larger than they already are, and…

I _need_ to tell her that I love her.

"Fuck," I gasp, instinctively thrusting upward when she becomes tighter. So slick and hot, so fucking perfect. I can't take my eyes off of her. Sitting up, I crash my lips to hers. My hands knead and grope her tits, which makes her moan, whimper, and arch into me.

The week I've just had… I clipped three men, I almost got shot, I was at a sit-down that almost ended in a bloodbath, and I dodged my mother's questions about why Jane's not pregnant yet. The week has been fucking awful. But then I come home to Isabella's lasagna, Anthony running into my arms while yelling for Dada, smiles… We sat down together with Jasper, Nicola, and Lucia and had a great dinner, after which Isabella rubbed my neck and I talked to her stomach…

"Baby," I moan, shivering as her fingernails dig into my shoulder blades. I kiss her again—it's the only way to make sure I don't say those three fucking words—and then I'm suddenly close.

"Yesss," she hisses and rolls her hips. Oh _Madonn'_, so good. "Close, _ciccino_. Oh…_aahhh_…"

I slip a hand between us to massage her clit, and it doesn't take many seconds before she's clamping down on me, a silent scream leaving her mouth. And with a strangled groan leaving mine, I follow.

_I'm going to tell her._

Decision's made.

**~oOo~**

The morning after, when I've showered and dressed for the day, I find Isabella and Anthony in the kitchen.

"Dada!"

"Morning, _tesoro_." I grin and pick him up. With him on my hip, I walk over to Isabella plant a real one on her luscious lips. "And how are you this morning?" I kiss her nose as I rest my free hand on her baby bump. Only three months to go. "Sleep well?"

"Mmhmm," she hums, smiling. "All's good. You?"

"_Molto bene_." I chuckle when Anthony squishes my cheeks together. "You bein' funny, little guy?"

"Take your seats, boys," Isabella laughs quietly, pointing at the table. "I'll bring you breakfast."

Before sitting down in my usual spot, I sit Anthony in his highchair. He giggles, occupying himself by banging his sippy cup on the table, and I occupy my own time by watching Isabella flit around the kitchen.

_No time like the present?_

"Hummingbird?" I ask, clearing my throat. And she hums, winking at me over her shoulder. It relaxes me, and…she feels the same, right? God, I hope so. "I…" I blow out a breath. I have her attention now; her eyes show curiosity. "Um. We've been—I mean…" How long has it been for us? "A little ova' two years," I say, waving a hand between us, "since we met."

"Yeah…?" she responds slowly.

I nod. "_And_ we have a child together."

Isabella _could_ walk out of my life now if she wanted to—the condo, the car, jewelry worth thousands would be hers—but Anthony's not going anywhere, which means Isabella won't leave, either. _If_ she did? I shake my head internally. I'd hunt her down.

"Is something wrong, Juniuh?" she asks, confused, concerned.

I shake my head no. "Nothing's wrong. I just—" I stop abruptly, nervous as hell, but then I force myself to go on.

"I love you."

There. I said it.

I exhale shakily. "I'm in love with you. Have been for…" I laugh, not particularly amused—more anxious. "…for a long fucking time."

She stares at me, eyes wide, lips parted.

She loves me, too, right?


	4. Chapter 4

**Special thanks to Lisa, Lexi, Francesca, and Kitty :)**

* * *

**Grand Tale**

**Chapter 4**

**Hummingbird's POV**

When I was little, my mother told me that girls should always guard their hearts.

_"In the world we live in, bella bambina, we need to be careful," _she'd say softly while tucking me into bed. Her eyes were kind. She'd smile down at me and caress my cheek. _"Love passionately, but love yourself the most—only give your heart to your children. Take care of others, but make sure to take care of yourself first."_

My mother wasn't selfish; she just had life experience.

Her father—my grandfather—was a cop, but she didn't bat away Dad's advances—despite the reputation Dad had in our neighborhood. My grandfather was furious, and I'm pretty sure—to this day—that his death, which occurred around the time Mom and Dad got married, was far from accidental. Dad wanted Mom and went after her. In turn, she embraced the life my dad gave her. He was a made man—Mom told me, and… I guess that's the only thing she did that was wrong. She didn't look the other way, and she didn't pretend to be stupid. As I grew up, Dad divulged more and more about "work" to Jasper, and Mom divulged to _me_. Dad prepared Jasper—Mom prepared me.

She had no right, but she did it anyway.

She always made sure that I never resented my father, but she also gave me the truth. It was just how the world—how things worked…functioned. Still does. She wasn't in love with Dad, but she cared for him deeply. She gave him everything except for her heart.

That way, when Dad lied and told Mom he was going to work when he was really going to see his other woman, she wasn't hurt. When he came home with tacky lipstick marks on his collar, she didn't break. Instead she focused solely on Jasper and me. She surrounded herself with good friends, she was kind, she managed the household, she put on music and danced with me in the kitchen, and she did things for herself.

When I got a little older, she'd also say, _"Listen to what I say—I say it because I care and because it's how I feel—but you make your own decisions. What I feel might not apply to you. But listen first."_

I did listen.

I learned to be happy with what I had and to not be greedy.

It keeps me content and my chest light.

Now, since my parents died a few years ago, I've formed my own opinions, but they don't stray far from Mom's. You can't help who you fall in love with, because it's nothing you can simply decide. You can, however—in my opinion—try to avoid it. And while it would be so easy to fall in love with Edward Maisano—the amazing man I've now shared my body with for two years—there are things I need in order to surrender.

Commitment. Affection. Fidelity. Passion. Love. Comfort.

Junior gives me many things, but commitment and fidelity are two things he can never promise.

I see what I have and I'm happy with it, but I still know reality. I'm not stuck in dreamland. I know that he's married, I know that his job is far from a legal one—I've sure heard of the Coluccis, and I bet he's a made man, too—and for all I know he has children with his wife, as well!

How should I know? His wife's name is never uttered in our house, and I never see him wearing his wedding band. Same goes for his work. I know that he's not an upstanding citizen, but it's nothing we talk about. I know the Junior who lives here, but I don't know the Mr. Maisano he is as soon as he's out the door.

No, I have what I have, and that's it. What I _don't_ have is what keeps me from falling in love with him, for which I'm thankful. Because I don't want a heavy heart, and I don't want feel broken.

And now he's just confessed that he loves me.

Like I said…it'd be so easy to fall for him. He's an amazing father, a perfect lover, and…a lot of things. But I can't. I just can't love him.

He's not mine.

"Can you say something, hummingbird?" he asks anxiously.

I draw a shaky breath.

I'm his mistress, his goomah, his comare.

The mother of his son.

Not his wife.

I'm here to take care of him—to make sure he's happy—and right now he obviously wants me to return his sentiment.

So, I will. Even though I don't really mean it.

"I love you, too," I whisper.

**Junior's POV**

I give her a tight-lipped smile—it's all I can muster—because it's obvious that she lied.

She doesn't feel the same.

_Fuck_.

My smile becomes genuine when Anthony reaches for me, though, and I spend my morning focusing on him instead.

Well, I try.

Truth? That shit hurt—_hurts_—like a son of a bitch, but there's little I can do about it. I just need to count my blessings. So, she doesn't love me—she still cares. Her eyes say everything, which I should've thought about before I confessed my undying love like a fucking _fanook_. In those eyes of hers, I see affection, passion, kindness, fire, compassion, strength, and…many other things.

But I don't see love.

_Counting my blessings._

She cares, she's the mother of my son—and our unborn child—she's…

Everything.

Fuck my life.

_No_. I shake my head to myself. I can't let this get me down. I'll take some time to let this settle, and then I'll move on. She, Anthony, and the little one in her belly are all I want—the goddamn light of my life.

Things are still good.

**~oOo~**

The first cracks in our bubble appear two years later.

Handling Jane has been easy as hell. She's developed quite a love for alcohol and pills, and I may or may not have told her that we've had sex on several occasions and that she simply doesn't remember 'cause she was too drunk. A couple of weeks ago, for instance, I forced myself to be in the same room as her. I pretended to be nice and charming—I even sat next to her on the couch. We talked a little about Brianna giving birth—she got married last year to some lawyer. In the meantime, as we spoke, Jane was guzzling down Alabama Slammers like there was no tomorrow. And then, when she passed out, I carried her upstairs and put her to bed before I dropped my clothes on the floor then left. That way, there was evidence of my being in there.

Like I said, Jane's easy to handle. Plus, she's seriously stupid, and she has no choice but to fucking obey me.

Carlisle is another matter.

Usually, whenever he wants to see us, we meet up at Felix's club. But lately, we've met at Dawn. Isabella doesn't work there—hasn't for years—but the first time Carlisle came, he came unannounced…and I had a photo of my kids on my desk.

He saw it.

This was last month, and he said, "Well, at least we know _you're_ fertile, Junior."

The warning was clear.

I'm definitely allowed to keep doing what I do, but he wants a child to be born from my marriage, too.

I've always respected Carlisle and regarded him with a sense of…_this is a man I look up to_. But when he sat there and studied the photo of my son and daughter—my tough guy, Anthony, and my little goofball, Elisa—I was angry and resentful. He's the reason I can't introduce my children to my own parents. Brianna knows, of course, but that's it, and I haven't allowed her to come by too often. A few dinners—that's it. Last week, she came by for a while to introduce Isabella to little Colin, my nephew. Alice has also been there those handful of times, but when Isabella divulged to me that Alice had taken an interest in Jasper—who happened to be at one of the dinners—I made sure it was the last dinner Alice attended. He's still just a low-man, though he's definitely gained more respect in the past two years, but that doesn't matter. It's not a union Carlisle would approve of, and the last thing I want in my life is more family drama.

For a while now, I've paid attention to the subtle hints from Felix. He's not as devoted to his father as he once was. He has three children with Heidi now—evidently, twins run in her family—and he adores them all.

But that means shit to Carlisle.

Just a few days ago, Jane's father bribed a handful of men to make sure two of our soldiers out in New York got out of jail, charges dropped. Safe to say, there's no way Carlisle would let me divorce Jane. And Heidi? She's nothing but a common whore in Carlisle's eyes. Hell, he'd see Isabella the same way, though that would stem from Carlisle's dislike for Jersey. Isabella's father—I'm not sure how high he ranked, but he was a made guy—was linked to the Mallettas in New Jersey. Granted, Carlisle did business with Vinny Malletta on occasion, but they often disagreed, leaving my father to act as a peacemaker. I hadn't made my bones yet at that time, so I've never been present at a sit-down with them, but I wonder if Felix has met Isabella's father. All I know is that he died a few years ago, and seeing as Felix is five years older than I am, it's definitely possible. But again, I don't know how high up Isabella's dad was.

Anyway…

Then there's my brother… Hotheaded Alec. He's married now, too—to a woman named Maria—and though he actually fucks his wife, Carlisle—always up in our business—still isn't satisfied. See, Maria's father apparently sees her as a real goddamn princess, and I don't know how often she's called him to rat Alec out. Okay, so he gets a little handsy; sometimes his temper gets the best of him. Especially if he's drunk. _No matter_. She calls up Daddy in Sicily, after which Daddy calls Carlisle to yell at him for how Alec behaves. In my opinion? It's not Daddy Dearest's fucking business if Alec slaps Maria around. She's Alec's wife, for fuck's sake.

But in the end, Carlisle gets in Alec's business. It's all so ridiculous. What happened to separating business from personal life? This isn't how it's supposed to be. As long as Carlisle keeps making scratch, he should just keep his mouth shut. But see, that's where it gets tricky. 'Cause our personal lives—due to our fucked-up marriages—all go hand in hand with Carlisle's business. Had Alec not been married to Maria, Carlisle wouldn't have his deal with the largest heroin distributors in Italy—Maria's family. Had I not been married to Jane, Carlisle's boys back East would be on a tighter leash. And had Emmett not been with Rosalie, our shipments down in Miami wouldn't have gone through without hassle.

It's becoming too much.

I'm losing respect for my boss, which is dangerous. That lack of respect could cloud my judgments and cause me to make bad decisions. My resentment toward him could also cause me to act out.

Emmett doesn't care. He's happy with the life he has, but Felix? Felix is different. As the underboss, he's hard and calculating, but when he's off the proverbial clock—if there was one in our world—he's a devoted father. He likes the peace and quiet, much like I do.

I don't give a fuck about family drama because it doesn't concern me, but evidently it concerns Carlisle.

He wants to control every little thing.

_Fuck it._

**~oOo~**

I wake up in the middle of the night when the phone rings.

Detangling myself from Isabella, I pick up the phone on my nightstand. "Yeah," I answer gruffly, rubbing my eyes.

_"It's Felix."_

That woke me up. "Listening."

_"I have a job for you. I'm at Twilight—you have an hour."_ Cradling the phone between my shoulder and cheek, I get out of bed and reach for my clothes, all while trying to make sure the cord doesn't get in the fucking way. _"And don't call Petey or Michael. I only want you on this."_

"Got it," I say, and he ends the call. Since Felix and I are usually more laid back toward each other—he's more of a brother than a boss when we get together—I know by the tone of his voice that he has a contract for me, and there may be problems if the target's name got out within our organization.

After dropping a kiss on Isabella's forehead, I leave our bedroom and walk into Anthony's room to kiss him, too. I'd do the same with Elisa, but that girl is one light sleeper. Sort of like me, actually. But that's probably the only thing she got from me. At the age of two—well, almost—she's a Daddy's girl who looks like Mommy. The eyes, the nose, the mouth, the hair, the works. All of it is Isabella. Which means she's fucking perfect.

We'd have a third little one, too, but Isabella miscarried about seven months ago—she was two months pregnant, I think—and it broke her heart. She also confessed that she was afraid the miscarriage was gonna make me leave her. _Stupid woman_. Sure, it upset me, but it wasn't Isabella's goddamn fault.

And that right there? She was scared I'd leave her? Yeah, that makes me wonder if she really doesn't love me. I tell her sometimes—that I love her—and she always says it back. But it never feels genuine. Still, I can't help but wonder just how much she cares for me. Or why she can't fucking love me the way I love her.

"Fuck," I grunt when I almost trip over one of Anthony's toys in the kitchen. In the fridge, I grab a soda, and just as I close the door, the light comes on, revealing a sleepy Isabella in the doorway.

"Did someone call?" she asks, stifling a yawn. She looks fucking delectable in that black satin negligee. I have a thing for making sure she always has provocative lingerie. "You're dressed."

I nod and take a swig from my soda. "Gotta work." Then I wave a hand at the floor. "Clean up this mess in the morning."

"Shit," she mumbles, looking at Anthony's toys. "Sorry," she adds sheepishly.

I wave her off, 'cause it's not that big of a deal. She always keeps a clean house; this isn't a common thing. I just don't wanna trip over toys in the middle of the night.

"Gimme a kiss before I go," I say. She walks over to me, and I smile as I nuzzle her cheek. So fucking gorgeous, and I tell her just that. "_Sei fantastica_."

"Smooth talker," she whispers with a coy smile. I grin and slap her sweet ass. Fuck. It feels so good in my hands. "Always with the hands, _ciccino_."

I wink. "You love it." I know she does. In our home, she acts like a lady unless I'm pounding into her. That's when she's my freak. She knows her place, but she's not a doormat. I just wish I could make her my goddamn wife.

"It's Friday today," she mentions, clearing her throat as she takes a step out of my embrace. "Will you have dinner here tonight, or are you eating with your wife?"

"Watch it," I warn quietly, grabbing her jaw. "We don't talk about her in this house. What's wit'chu?"

She shrugs and averts her eyes, though I'm still holding her jaw. "I'm just gonna miss you."

I chuckle and slide my hand up to cup her cheek. "I'll miss you, too, my hummingbird, but I'll be back as soon as I can." She nods, pouting a little, and I admit that I like it. I want her to miss me. "Kiss me."

She does, and she puts so much passion into it that I almost lose my fucking breath.

I've said it before and I'll say it again: she's a dangerous woman, who has too much of an effect on me.

After four years with Isabella, she's still the only one for me. I haven't fucked around—hell, I can't even fuck my own wife. My hummingbird is wicked. She even made me fall stupid in love with her.

And on my way to Felix, all I think about is her.

However, as soon as my ass hits the chair in his office, my head is in the right place.

**~oOo~**

"This doesn't leave this office," Felix tells me, sliding a photo across his desk. I lean forward and take it, only needing a quick look before I understand the situation. "Make it look like an accident." I nod in understanding. "And you have three days to get it done."

I purse my lips, my eyes flicking between the photo and Felix.

It's a shot of Marcus Ocello—one of Carlisle's capos from New York. He has three out there and three here.

"You didn't…" I clear my throat and hold up the photo. "This doesn't come from Carlisle, does it?"

'Cause I know that Carlisle likes Marcus. They're the same age—have run together since they were little shits in Brooklyn.

Felix shakes his head no, regarding me from behind his desk, and I realize that he's testing me.

Would he fuck me over?

Or is this because he wants to break free from Carlisle?

Then again, I take orders from my boss, and that is Felix.

So… "All right." I shrug. "And the bunny next to him?" In the photo, Marcus is standing with some woman who isn't his wife.

"Both of them." He nods. "She can just disappear, unless you find them in the same place, but he needs to go in an accident. Within three days. Her name is on the back of the photo." I flip it over. _Jessica Stanley_. Then he presents a second photo. "This guy, too. I want him to disappear."

I vaguely remember the man. He's in Marcus' crew. My age, maybe a few years older.

"Is there a reason?"

He smirks. "There's always a reason, Junior."

He's not going to tell me more about it.

But then he speaks again, this time with an apprehensive expression on his face. "I'll tell you more when you get back, all right?"

I nod, confused, but pleased that he trusts me. He doesn't have to tell me anything, yet he chooses to…even if it's later and not now.

I just hope I can trust him, too.

"You're on the next flight out—use another identity," he tells me. "No family this weekend. I have your alibi covered."

After he gives me half my cut, I'm out the door, knowing that next time I see him, three people will be dead and I have more money coming my way.

**~oOo~**

Translation:

Che coglione = Moron, idiot...

~oOo~

The following night, I'm parked outside of Paul Notti's apartment building, waiting for him to come home.

Earlier today, I broke into Marcus' home and created a gas leak. It was a safe bet, what with it being Saturday and all. He's a family man on weekends, much like many others. His wife will die, too, but I called Felix earlier and it wasn't a problem.

Tomorrow I'll deal with the other woman.

_Some have issues killing women._

I shrug to myself. We're all humans, capable of doing shit.

About two hours later, Paul finally comes home.

As he runs up the stairs, I follow calmly, quietly, as I attach the silencer to my piece.

It's when he has just unlocked his door that I shoot him in the back of his head.

Then, after making sure his apartment is empty, I drag his body inside.

Judging by the interior, I'd say he lives here alone, but I'm not taking any risks.

I tilt my head, curious about the suitcase by the door.

_Going somewhere?_

Shaking that thought away, I pull out the bandage I brought and secure it around his head. A baseball cap follows, and then he's ready to go. Down the stairs, and when I reach the outside, I pull him up to make sure he doesn't look…well, dead. His arm goes around my shoulder, and I thank God he's not bigger than he is. He's my height, but scrawnier.

Once we're at my car across the street, I sit him down in the passenger seat. He'll go in the trunk later, but not now when I can't be sure there aren't any onlookers.

When I arrive at Marcus' house, I'm satisfied to see that all the lights are out. His car is still parked in the driveway, as is his wife's. I'm not stupid, though. I get out of the car, stealthily making my way around their house. I scale the wall, grunting a little as I push myself up, and then I can't stop the grin that forms on my lips. Marcus and the wife are sleeping soundly.

I return to my car.

"Let's create a fire," I mutter to myself. In the backseat, I reach for one of my many toys—a crossbow. Idly, I wonder if they're already dead in there. The gas has been on for several hours now…

I shrug and pop some chewing gum in my mouth.

Then I light up a smoke as I look for an appropriate spot to… "Oh, yeah," I laugh under my breath. Fucking kitty door. Excellent. And seriously? Those doors aren't safe. How idiotic is Marcus to have that shit? _Che coglione._

Shaking my head at his stupidity, I stick my gum to the hardwood arrow—metal would leave evidence behind—and the lit cigarette follows on the gum.

The gas from inside should linger in the cracks of the tiny opening.

"Watch how the pros do it," I tell my dead companion as I roll down my window. I place the crossbow on my arm, I aim, I fire, I smile, I grab my binoculars, I make sure the cigarette's still lit. "Perfect." Returning the crossbow to the backseat, I start the car and pull away slowly. Very slowly, because I'm not leaving until I see that house go up in flames.

If it doesn't work out, I can always throw a fucking Molotov cocktail, but I do appreciate some creativity.

"Too bad you're missing this," I chuckle, eyes on the rearview mirror.

This is better than doing blow. The high is indescribable.

And boom.

The entire house is engulfed in flames.

Two down—not counting the wife—one to go. But first, I gotta make this one disappear.

**~oOo~**

In upstate New York, I bury Paul Notti in the middle of the woods—far away from hiking trails and roads.

Six feet under.

When that's done, I'm all but dead on my feet.

Ha.

"Dead on my feet." I snicker to myself and start the car again. "I'm a funny guy."

Truth? I need a shower and a few hours of sleep.

Which I get at a small motel outside the city, and when I wake up, I'm ready to track down this Jessica Stanley. It shouldn't be too hard since I have her address. I also know where she works as a waitress in Brooklyn.

~oOo~

Sitting at the café across the street from where Ms. Stanley works in a diner, I keep my eyes on the little TV in the corner.

The fire from last night is all over the news.

Gas leak. Tragic accident. Two dead.

I sip my coffee. I think about my children. I wait. I follow Jessica when she takes her lunch. While she's meeting some friend in a salad bar, I make a mental note to pick up a gift for Isabella before I go home. I follow Jessica back to the diner, though I wait in my car this time. Then, when she's off the clock, I follow her home and give her the same treatment I gave Paul.

Before I know it, I'm on my way back to Las Vegas.

Yet another job well done.

**~oOo~**

While the waitress hands us our drinks, Felix and I stay quiet, but as soon as she leaves the office, we're back to talking about the past weekend.

"Dad and I are flying out for the wake," he tells me. "Mom and my wife, too. Alice is gonna watch the kids."

I nod, figuring they'd go. "And what was my alibi?"

"You were in LA—contract. Nothing out of the ordinary." He pulls out a file from the top drawer. "I sent a buddy of mine—California local—and he took care of a problem. If it gets back to Carlisle, it was you who were in Cali. Simple as that." He wipes his hands clean. "Now…" He takes a swig of his drink then asks, "Any other questions?"

"Will you answer them?" I grin to show him that I'm teasing. We're still talking business, meaning I can't get out of line. "'Cause yeah, I have questions up hea'." I tap my temple.

He chuckles. "Go ahead. We'll just see if I have answers."

All right. With a slow nod, I choose my words. The fewer words the better. "Why Marcus?"

He stares at me, unsurprised by the question, but not sure whether to answer me or not.

I'm really starting to wonder if he's flipping on his own dad.

"Marcus is—well, that's not right," he laughs, leaning forward. "Marcus _was_ the capo my old man trusted the most back East." He lowers his voice, still watching me closely. "Since we moved out here, Marcus became sort of the, uh…" He waves a hand. "…underboss—out there."

My eyebrows rise. "So, it's personal? You—you wanna be the only one or some shit?"

"Nah," he chuckles with a shake of his head. He also leans back in his chair again. "Couldn't give a rat's ass about that, but…" He purses his lips and tilts his head. "…when he orders someone to kill one of the capos, _my_ capos…_out here_—it doesn't sit well with me." Now my brows knit together. "I wasn't supposed to know—your sister came to me."

"The fuck you say?" I splutter. My spine goes rigid. "Which one? Brianna?"

He nods. "She overheard something when she visited Alice last week."


	5. Chapter 5

**Special thanks to Lisa, Lexi, Francesca, and Kitty :)**

* * *

**Grand Tale**

**Chapter 5**

**Junior's POV**

I nod for him to go on.

He does. "Brianna stood outside my dad's office when he made a call to Marcus." Ah, that nosy little brat. She's gonna get herself killed one day. "She didn't fully understand; Dad spoke in riddles." Of course. Over the phone, you don't exactly tell someone to whack another person. "But Brianna's a smart cookie." He nods and points to his temple. "She's been around—she has ears. And when Dad told Marcus to order someone to take Alec fishing, your sister grew suspicious." I grit my teeth. "Brianna didn't get the feeling they were talking about some sunny day trip out on Lake Mead, if you know what I mean." He shrugs. "Your sister was just worried about your brother, so she came to me about it. I haven't told her anything about afterward."

I rub my jaw as I try to rein in my temper, though it doesn't work very well. Leaning forward, I seethe, "Why the _fuck_ would Carlisle take out Alec?" Then I explode. I'm out of the chair, pacing in Felix's office. I laugh humorlessly and wag my finger at him. "You know…your father is beginning to lose his goddamn mind." I widen my arms. "He's not the fucking Don—he's the mother hen!" My guess is that Alec did something to Maria, which pissed off Maria's father. "Family bullshit," I spit out. "It's none of Carlisle's business!"

"Lower your voice and sit down," he commands, pointing at the chair. I stare at him, livid. I get that we're supposed to separate family from business, but Carlisle's doing the opposite, and…Alec's my fucking brother. "Sit. Down, Junior."

I obey. With a curse, I slump down in the chair, and then I down my drink.

"Listen," he says, "there are gonna be changes around here. The only thing I need to know is if you're with me."

I stare at him and ignore the question. "Why Paul?"

He sighs. "He's the one Marcus ordered to take Alec 'fishing'."

I nod, remembering the suitcase I saw in Paul's apartment. "And the—" I wave a hand "—the other one. The bitch."

"She's the one I got the information from." He shrugs. "I've used her plenty of times—she's proven to be useful and trustworthy—but it was enough now. She's a sneak, good at getting information, but her loyalty can be bought for money. I figured it was best to get rid of her before she turned on me."

"You're taking down Carlisle," I state.

"Yes."

**~oOo~**

**May 1980**

Over the next several months, Felix and I make our plans. We talk about who we can trust—who we can include—and who to take out first. It's official—we're bringing Carlisle down. Felix is taking his own father out—that's how much he's grown to resent Carlisle. And I'm all for it. Partly because I don't agree with Carlisle's methods of running this family, and partly because I'm aching to make Isabella mine in every way possible. Maybe that'll make her love me. Who knows? But I'm more than willing to try.

So far, Felix and I agree that we can trust the men in his crew—Jasper included. We can also trust Alec—we had to physically restrain him when he learned about Carlisle's hit on him. And we don't believe it will be long before Dad starts showing his real feelings toward Carlisle. It's already happening, but too subtly so far—just a few expressions when he doesn't approve, but no words. He doesn't speak up. Once he does, however, we will tell him about his supposed closest friend's order to kill Alec—my little brother, my father's youngest son.

We haven't divulged anything to anyone other than Jasper and Alec, but we will. Soon. And in the meantime, Jasper's clocking Carlisle. After all, it's only a matter of time before Carlisle orders someone else to kill for him. Which is why Alec has spent a few weekends in New York, following some of Carlisle's closest around.

One weekend in early May, irony strikes.

Isabella tells me she's pregnant again, with a due date in December; it's the reason for the silly smile on my face. And I'm about to tell Jane that she's going to _pretend_ to be pregnant.

It will hopefully give us time, and force Carlisle to get off my back. Because if everything goes as planned, he won't be alive for much longer.

**~oOo~**

"You want me to pretend _what_?" Jane screeches. "No way! Are you fucking insane?!"

I take a quick step toward her and slap her across the face with the back of my hand.

She gasps and starts crying, one hand cupping her cheek. "You—you…you hit me!"

"Lower your goddamn voice," I warn, pointing a finger at her. Even though we're alone in the kitchen, not to mention the entire house, I won't have her raising her voice at me. "You'll do as I say, Jane, or I swear to _God_…" I clench my jaw.

"But I don't want to pretend, Edward," she cries. "I want it to be _real_."

I grin and tap a finger to my chest. "It's not my fault you're not pregnant. That's all on you. Hell," I chuckle, "you've been so fucking drunk that you can't even remember all the times we've been together." Shame floods her features, and I can't believe how easy it's been to lie to her. She really believes we've had sex, even though we haven't. "Now—" I check my watch "—we have dinner at my parents' in an hour. We'll tell them then about the pregnancy." I point to the stairs. "Go get dressed, and—fix your makeup; you look hideous."

Dealing with Isabella's hormones is one thing, but crying women in general? I hate it. They cry for _nothing_.

~oOo~

"A toast," Carlisle announces with a wide smile, "to Junior and Jane."

A choir of "Salute!" rings out.

Under the dining room table, I squeeze Jane's thigh. She needs to smile.

"Ow," she whimpers quietly. I give her a pointed look, and she plasters a smile on her face before I release her. "Thank you," she tells everyone. She takes a breath. "We're so excited."

"Definitely," I agree, but I'm excited for other reasons.

The rest of the dinner passes, and Carlisle seems genuinely appeased.

Before we leave, Felix and I exchange a quick look.

_It's working._

**~oOo~**

Translation:

Angioletto mio = My little angel.

Piccolo tesoro = Little treasure.

~oOo~

While Isabella cooks dinner, I sit on the floor with Elisa in my lap, trying to get her more comfortable with the puppy I bought for us. It's a Rottweiler, and he's only nine weeks old. Anthony's over the moon, playing on all fours with the little pup, but my daughter's still apprehensive.

"Throw it, _angioletto mio_," I chuckle and kiss the top of Elisa's head. I give her the squeeze toy and coax her stop hiding her gorgeous little face in the crook of my neck. "Can you throw it for Daddy?" I ask softly, brushing a few brown curls behind her ear. "Anthony's waiting." I wink at my son, who has his eyes on the toy. So does the dog.

"Throw it, Elli!" Anthony cheers.

The puppy whines and huffs, tail wagging.

"Have you decided on a name for him yet?" Isabella asks, smiling down at us.

I look to Anthony. "Your choice, _piccolo tesoro_." And I grin as his eyes light up in excitement.

"S'gotta be something cool," he says, nodding. At almost four years old, everything has to be cool, otherwise he doesn't like it. It's his favorite word. "Mama, you know any cool names? Or you, Daddy?"

"Hmm," I hum, pensive. "What about Tito? He's gonna be huge one day, and Tito means 'giant'."

"That's a good one," Isabella agrees, grinning. "What do you say, Anthony?"

Anthony agrees, too, and then Isabella tells us that it's dinner.

I'll work on Elisa's fear of Tito later. I doubt it'll take long, 'cause whenever she thinks no one's watching, her curious eyes are on the pup.

During dinner, I'm content to sit back and just watch and listen. Anthony tells us about his day over at a friend's house and afterward when Isabella took him, Elisa, Nicola, and Lucia for ice cream. At "ice cream", Elisa wakes up and looks fucking adorable bouncing in her seat and asking for "ice cweam".

If Isabella agrees to my proposal in a few months, this will be my life soon. Even on the weekends. It's August now, and over the past few months, I've barely seen my children, or Isabella for that matter—I miss them. She's almost five months pregnant and looking so beautiful with her little baby bump. She's also smiling more. But I've missed a lot of it, 'cause ever since I ordered Jane to fake the pregnancy—back in May—we've been busy. Carlisle may be more relaxed around me these days, but in general? Forget about it. He currently thinks someone is out to get him, which is true, but he thinks it's Chicago Outfit.

Jasper, Alec, and I take turns, going to New York to take out the people who are loyal to Carlisle, and when we're there, we drive cars with Illinois plates—anything to keep our backs clear. We can't exactly have Carlisle suspecting his own men. And speaking of men, Jasper's a made one now. Felix surprised him last month, and I was there for the ceremony. And with that thought, my eyes move to Isabella. 'Cause I'm pretty sure she knows. She saw the cut on Jasper's hand and gave him some odd look.

She never asks questions, but I'm beginning to wonder just how much she's aware of and how involved she was growing up. All I know is that her father was a made guy and worked with the Mallettas in New Jersey.

"Something on your mind, _ciccino_?" Isabella asks softly, bringing me outta my musings.

I shake my head no and smile as I bring out a cigarette. "Nothing." I light it up and lean back in my chair, exhaling slowly. "Thanks for dinner. It was fucking delicious." It always is.

"I liked it lots, too," Anthony says and mirrors my position by leaning back in his chair. While I rest my arm on the back of Elisa's chair, Anthony tries to do the same, but on the back of Isabella's. He's just too fucking cute for words. "Fuckin' delic-cious, Mama."

"Ay!" I shout, though I'm laughing hysterically on the inside. My little tough guy. "Watch that mouth, son."

"He does anything you do," Isabella tells me then shakes her head at Anthony. "Those are words for grownups, _capisce_?"

My son scrunches his nose. "So, I can't say them?"

"That's right." I nod at him.

"But Nico says 'fuck' all the time," he mumbles. "And he's ten—also a kid."

"I'm not his father—Jasper is," I tell him. "You obey your parents and Nicola obeys Jasper. Understood?"

He nods.

"Good." I nod firmly. "Now, eat up. It's almost bedtime."

Since I spent the past two weeks in New York, I haven't had sex in just as long, meaning I need my hummingbird. We just gotta get the kids to bed first.

**~oOo~**

Translation:

Ce l'ho così duro—solo per te = I'm so hard—just because of you.

Tu sarai sempre l'unica per me, amore mio = You'll always be the only one, my love.

Come ti pare = Whatever you say.

~oOo~

"I've missed you," she whispers as I hover over her. My hands and mouth go everywhere. There's urgency lacing my touches and kisses. I can't get enough. Nudging her thighs apart, I swiftly push my cock inside of her. "Mmm…oh, yeah…"

"Fuck," I exhale in the crook of her neck. "Tell me how much you missed me."

Her belly isn't too big yet, so it's not in the way when I press into her.

"So much," she whimpers as I throw her legs over my shoulders. Then I go deep. "_Cazzo_, Junior!" Reaching down, I start massaging her clit, and she begins to meet each thrust. I slide in, she arches into me. "Missed—I missed everything… You…"

I moan. "Tell me, hummingbird."

"Your cock," she breathes out, and I throb inside of her.

"Check you out," I chuckle breathlessly. "Dirty fucking mouth on you."

The next time I slam in, I swivel my hips, and I groan when she clamps down on me. Sex with Isabella is always smoking hot, but when she's pregnant? It's out of this goddamn world. She's so responsive.

"I missed more than that," she admits, also out of breath. I release her legs and dip down to kiss her. I tell her to elaborate. Right now. Because I want to know it all. "Your fingers," she moans, and I add pressure to her clit. "Your tongue, _ciccino_." I push said tongue into her mouth and kiss her deeply, hard, relentlessly. More. She needs to give me more. "Mmm, your face." I cock a brow at that and place my elbows on the sides of her face. In and out of her. Fuck, she's wet. "So handsome and sexy," she whispers, kissing my face.

I groan and close my eyes. _"Ce l'ho così duro—solo per te."_

Her breathing hitches. "Only me?" Her eyes are smoldering, but behind all the fire, I see something else.

Fear?

"When are you gonna get it?" I ask, breathing heavily. I grind into her, feeling my insides coil. "I fucking love you, Isabella." Sweat starts to bead on my forehead, and I shiver when she reaches up to kiss me. Her hands cup my cheeks. _"Tu sarai sempre l'unica per me, amore mio."_

She whimpers and screws her eyes shut. "Junior…I love you, too."

I shake my head and fuck her harder. "Liar," I breathe out. At that, her eyes snap open again. "You're a goddamn liar, and I still love you." I'm a pussy for this woman, and it's beginning to infuriate me.

"_Ciccino_—"

I clamp my hand over her mouth. "Shut the fuck up."

Dropping my forehead to shoulder, I pound into her with anger fueling each motion.

The only things I hear are harsh breathing, skin slapping on skin, her whimpers, and my groans.

When my climax takes over, I bite down on my knuckles.

My cock pulses inside of her.

The pleasure is still mind-fucking-blowing, but I'm also pissed.

Completely drained, I only linger inside of her for a few seconds. Then I pull out and collapse on my back next to her. I stare at the ceiling, and I want to ask her—no, I want to scream at her. I want to know what the fuck I've done wrong. I want to tell her that she's a fucking witch for making me this whipped.

"Junior?" she asks in a small voice.

"I don't wanna hear it," I snap, getting out of bed. I pull on my underwear then leave the bedroom. Fucking women. Doesn't matter how much you give them. It's still not enough.

I end up in the game room on the first floor.

The pool table, to be exact.

A few minutes later, I know that Isabella is standing in the doorway, but I pay her no mind as I sink ball after ball into the pockets.

"I'm sorry," she whispers.

I lift my head and grin at her. "You're sorry," I chuckle, but then the chuckle dies. "_Fuck _you, Isabella."

She lets out a quiet gasp, quickly followed by her eyes welling up. And that right there only pisses me off further, 'cause it's physically painful to see her hurt. Which is her fault. I loathe being so obsessed with her, but it would've been good—perfect—if she felt the same.

"_Fuck_!" I shout, _slamming_ down the pool cue on the table. Isabella flinches, and when I see her taking a step back, I'm quick to walk toward her. I don't stop until I'm right in front of her. "I gotta know. Level with me here, Isabella." I grasp her chin and force her to look up at me. "Tell me the fucking problem—why you can't love me." Just saying those words makes me feel like my balls have gone missing. "Huh? Just lay it on me."

"Junior, s-stop," she chokes out and tries to pull away. But I don't let her. Instead I back her into a wall, effectively caging her. "Please."

I shake my head no and squeeze her jaw. "I want the truth."

"I—I…please, it hurts, _Edward_," she whimpers.

That shit makes me laugh so hard that my eyes tear up. "Hurt? You wanna talk about what hurts, Isabella?" I guffaw. She sniffles, and it's like a flip of a switch—my humor is gone. Completely vanished, and I loosen my grip on her jaw. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I whisper and brush my lips over her cheek. "But do you wanna know what really hurts? Huh?" I place a soft kiss on her lips then back away, grinning at her. "No matter what I do, no matter how much I fucking _give_ you…" I chuckle and shake my head at her. "It'll never be enough, will it?" I cup both her tits and push them together roughly. "I have these, yeah? But I can never get inside here." I tap her temple. "Or here." I place a hand over her heart. Another laugh escapes me, though this one is quieter. "See what you're doin' to me? I should hate you for that."

If my guys saw me now…

"You haven't given me everything," she croaks, and my eyebrows shoot up in disbelief. "I'm sorry, I-I…" She takes a breath. "I can't love you."

I nod. "No, I got that. Believe me. And I'm starting to wonder if maybe you're just a greedy little whore."

I don't see it coming, but suddenly there's a sting on my cheek.

_She fucking slapped me._

My eyes flash to Isabella's, and I slam her into the wall.

"That's one," I hiss in her ear and wrap my fingers around her throat. Internally, I'm struggling to keep my calm. "Slap me again, and you'll find out if you can handle the same treatment. Am I making myself clear?"

"Yes," she wheezes out.

I go on. "And don't even think about walking away." I trail a finger down her chest. "You're mine, hummingbird, and…" I grin and touch her protruding stomach. "We're a family—we have two kids together, soon three. We belong together. You won't ever leave me."

"You're scaring me," she breathes out.

I frown, repeating her words in my head, then take a step back. "I don't want you to fear me," I say quietly and run a hand through my hair. "I think you know what I want. But I don't know what _you_ want." I tilt my head. "What am I doing wrong?"

Her gaze is cold, hard. "Right now? So much."

I clench my jaw. "Watch your mouth—don't be cute. For once, give me the _fucking_ truth."

I almost expect her to cower away, but she does the opposite. She squares her shoulders and looks me dead in the eye.

She's so fucking beautiful.

"I don't want to share my man," she says.

She doesn't want to share her man?

Those words take a second or two to process.

"You don't…" I shake my head, in a daze. "…want to _share_ me?"

She swallows, suddenly struggling to remain confident. "That's right. I can't—not when you go home to your other family every weekend." I see pain in her eyes. "I'm sorry, Junior, but I _can't_."

_My other family._

Then it suddenly dawns on me, and it feels like I've been punched in the gut. Or that I've punched Isabella in the gut. Which is worse. Since I've forbidden all talk concerning my wife here, it's obvious that Isabella thinks the worst—that this is my second family…instead of my first and only.

"You're not sharing me," I admit in a rush, feeling nauseous. "Jesus fucking Christ." I fist my hair and look up at the ceiling, and then back at Isabella, who's looking a little lost. "Hummingbird…I don't love my wife. It's the opposite—I never had a choice about her. Arranged marriage, you know?" She frowns, and I grasp her biceps, making sure to keep it gentle this time. "We don't have children, either." I bend a little to be at her level. "I only have one family—with you."

"But…" Her brows knit together, and she licks her lips. "I don't…" She's in thought, puzzling the pieces together, maybe. What the fuck do I know? "I don't get it," she says quietly, making eye contact. "Okay, so you don't have children, but you're still married to her."

I nod.

She does, too, and adds a sardonic grin. "And you still _fuck_ her."

"Ay!" I shout. I take a step back, caught off guard by the venom in her voice. I narrow my eyes at her, and I'm back in her face. "What the fuck is _wrong_ with you?" I widen my arms. "I don't get it! You've known all along that I have a wife."

"And you've known all along that we'd leave our hearts out of this!" she shouts back.

I grind my teeth together, fighting the urge to raise my hand to her. I don't want to be violent with her—ever—but I hate how vulnerable this woman makes me. And it sure as hell doesn't help that she's right. We said from the beginning it had nothing to do with feelings. Evidently, feelings change, but…only for me in this case.

"Touché." I nod with a dip of my chin. "For the record, though?" I cock a brow at her. "I'm not fucking her. We consummated our marriage on the wedding night, but that's it."

The first thing I see in Isabella's eyes is shock, followed by…hope? Then she settles for skepticism.

"Sure," she mutters and averts her eyes. "_Come ti pare_, Juniuh."

My eyes widen in disbelief, and anger surges through me. I can't believe this! I punch the wall—right next to Isabella—causing her to jump. "You—" I can barely go on. I shake my head and point a finger to my chest. "You think I'm lying?" No response. "Aw, this is just great!" I laugh sarcastically. "You say you don't wanna share your man; I admit that you're not sharing me, and…" I laugh harder. "…you don't believe me!"

"Please stop," she hisses. "You're gonna wake up the kids."

My laughing ceases. "I don't give a _fuck_ about that right now," I seethe. Once again, I have her caged in. "I wanna get to the bottom of this—right now." I search her eyes. "You say you can't love a man who you share with another woman. Well, I'm your man, and you have me all to yourself, so…"

She suddenly looks exhausted, wary, and vulnerable. "Don't do this, Junior. I beg you. Don't feed me lies—it'll _break_ me."

She just doesn't get it. "I'm not lying—I have no reason to!"

"You're a man," she spits out. "Don't come here and tell me that one pussy is enough for you. I know the world we live in—I'm not stupid."

And then I'm just too tired to argue. She won't believe me, no matter what I say. I'm a man, and therefore she thinks I fuck around. I get it. It's what many do—not all men, mind you, but it's common—and maybe I'm an ass for not seeing what else is out there, but it is what it is. All I see is Isabella.

"Believe what you want," I say tiredly, taking a step back. "You're the only one—" I stop there and shake my head. It's not worth it if she's just going to ignore the fucking truth. I jerk my head in the direction of the door. "Go to bed. I'm sleeping on the couch tonight." She doesn't move—she just stares at me, eyes welling up again. So, I point to the door. "I said go. Now."

She whimpers. "_Ciccino_-"

"Go!"

She goes.

**~oOo~**

October rolls around, and Isabella and I aren't as close anymore. But I do believe my words had some effect on her. Sometimes, I find her watching me, especially when I'm with Anthony and Elisa. I don't know what it's about, but I'm willing to give her time. Plus, I'm still too tired to argue with her. I miss her, but I can barely look at her? Maybe that doesn't make sense though it's what I feel. I also feel wounded, which pisses me off. I laid everything out for her, and she didn't accept shit.

I guess it's both a blessing and a curse that I've been forced to stay away from home so much. First there was dealing with Jane's "miscarriage" about six or seven weeks ago, and I had to stay in the big house for a week to show how supportive I am. Something like that. Thankfully, Carlisle didn't react too strongly, but it's a good thing Felix and I are almost done with the final stage of our plan. Okay, not the final one, because that's actually killing Carlisle, but the shit before that. Which leads to the other stuff I've been busy doing these past two months. Hits. Jasper, Alec, and I have taken out a handful of Carlisle's men in New York. The media is going insane, and every day brings a new headline about the ongoing "mafia war". Fingers are pointed, accusations are thrown out, rumors are being spread, and the Feds are losing it with all the leads going nowhere.

Carlisle himself never leaves the house without two men flanking him, and he has upped the security around his house. That's all fine by me, because we won't kill him there.

When November arrives, all I can think is that it's been a shitty first year of this new decade. Last year, Isabella and I had celebrated New Year's with Felix, Heidi, their three children, Jasper and his two kids, and it'd been fucking great. And at the stroke of midnight, we toasted to 1980 and the ten years that would follow. All right, I admit that it's mostly my recent fallout with Isabella that has caused this bitterness, but come on. Something's gotta give. All I want is for us to be a real family, for her to believe in me, and for Carlisle to go to hell.

Is that so much?

I sigh to myself and look over at the photos I have on my desk. There are three of them now. One photo of Anthony and Elisa, one of Isabella—it was taken right before we had that big fight—and though her gorgeous belly shows in this picture, her stomach is even more protruding right now. She's all belly, and I'm willing to bet we're having another boy.

Lastly, the third picture. It's of Isabella and the kids.

I don't have them up when I have associates coming in, but when I'm alone, I need them there. They help me separate things. Right outside my office door, I run a popular strip club, but in here-

An ear-shattering scream from the other side of the door interrupts my thoughts, and I'm out of my chair in a flash.

As soon as I exit my office, one of the strippers almost runs into me, and I gather that she's the screamer. For a second, I wonder if something's gone bad in one of the private rooms, so I grab her bicep and prevent her from running away.

"Mr. Maisano!" she gasps between sobs. "I saw—I saw…" She points at something down the hall. "I was just—smoke break," she stutters, eyes wide in fear. "Out back, and, and—" She breaks down.

Without really comprehending, I walk down the dimly lit hall, the girl—whose name I can't remember—still in my grasp. She said she'd seen something on her smoke break out back, and my guess is she saw something she shouldn't have seen. That's why I'm dragging her along.

We pass all the private rooms, and then we reach the door that leads to the back alley behind the club. Once I've pulled out my piece, I kick the door open, ready for anything. And what I see is my brother sitting on the ground next to a couple of Dumpsters. Petey and Mike are also there, and as I walk closer, I see that Alec's hands and shirt are bloodied.

"What the fuck happened?" I ask, using the barrel of the gun to scratch my forehead. I'd use my other hand, but Blondie's struggling to get free and we can't have that. Not until I know what she's witnessed.

As Petey speaks, I notice that my little brother is crying. "Another fire—a restaurant." I nod. We've had a few fires in Las Vegas recently, but I don't understand what it has to do with Alec. "Alec was there with his girl." Ah, Kate. "They got out just fine, but when they got to the car—boom." He makes his hands widen to demonstrate an explosion. "Kate didn't make it."

"Fuck," I mutter.

Michael's next. "Alec called us from the nearest payphone—we cleaned up the mess." I nod again. "Then when we got back here, this one—" he jerks his head at Blondie "—heard us talking. I guess she saw the blood on Alec, too, and freaked out."

I raise a brow. "And you didn't think it was a good idea to follow her? She was screaming like a banshee in there!" I shout. Then I shake my head in disappointment. "You should be lucky I got her before she passed my office."

"I was just on my way," Petey defends, holding his palms up. "That door—it locks when it closes, so I was gonna go around-"

"No matta'. Take this and—" I push the girl toward Petey "—make her disappear." She starts screaming, to which Petey clamps a hand over her mouth. "Go on—get outta hea'. I'll take care of Alec."

Mike and Petey leave with Blondie, and I crouch down in front of my brother.

"You okay?" I ask quietly. He didn't have the same relationship with Kate that I have with Isabella, but I know he cared for her. It was mutual, too. No deep love or shit like that, but still.

"I wanna know who did this, bro," he croaks, looking up at me. His eyes are red and brimming with tears. It's not often a man cries, and hardly within our, uh…profession. No room for emotions. But if you lose someone you care for? Or when you hold your newborn child for the first time? Yeah.

"Can you tell me exactly what happened?" I ask, tucking away my piece. I light up a smoke and sit down next to him. "You were out eating—then what?"

He sighs heavily and scrubs his hands over his face. "Nothing out of the ordinary. Just dinner, and then—it all happened so fucking fast. There was a fire in the kitchen, and everyone ran out. I don't fucking know." His shoulders slump. "We got to the parking lot and," he chuckles bitterly, "I remember seeing some man running away. But I was too concerned about just gettin' outta there, so I didn't stop to think." He taps his temple. "Now, though…"

"You think it could've been the one who rigged your car," I finish for him, and he nods tiredly. Well, that probably means the fire in the restaurant had nothing to do with the bomb in my brother's car. Whoever did this obviously thought he had more time. "All right. And next?" I hold out my pack of smokes for him. Then a lighter.

He replies after taking his first pull. "I was driving my new Mustang. Kate wanted to give it a test drive. I let her."

I nod, thinking. "Did it explode once she turned on the ignition or later?"

I'm not an expert in explosives—I'm more of a gun nut, or I just use my hands, or a wire…whichever, really. I'm not picky, but explosives? Not usually my cup of tea or whatever the saying is. Anyway…I know some people who are into blowing things up, and I know a thing or two about signatures. One of Felix's friends, for instance, is a sadistic motherfucker. He draws out the "experience". First, the radio will crackle, and then the engine will start failing, and then…boom. Personally, I call that stupid. He basically gives his victim a warning. If you know bombs, you have a shot at jumping out of the car as soon as the radio acts up. If you don't know, however? Yeah, you're dead.

"As soon as she started the car," Alec chokes out, and then he smiles sadly at the ground. "I was thinking of my goddamn car—I didn't want her to fucking crash it—so I…" He lets out a labored breath. "I stood to the side to make sure nothing was in the way when she backed out."

I squeeze his shoulder, missing my hummingbird like crazy. We've bitched a little in the past, raised our voices, of course, but we've never been like this. Months of stilted conversation unless it involves our children. And now, listening to Alec…it feels like I've been wasting my time, holding this grudge for petty bullshit.

"It wasn't a big explosion—Mike was able to tow the car," he adds quietly, palming his face. "And with the fire at the restaurant, no one noticed what went down in the parking lot. Fuck, I screamed, you know? For help." He shakes his head. "No one heard."

"So you chose to make it look like nothing happened?" I guess, flicking some ash onto the ground.

He shrugs. "It was the easiest."

We're quiet for a while, and I try to come up with ways of how to find the idiot who did this. We have so much to do as it is, but if it were Isabella—God forbid—no one would've been able to stop me.

I fear that it was Carlisle. He's already tried to take out my brother once before, and I don't fucking understand _why_.

"We'll figure it out," I tell him. "Now, go clean yourself up—no one should see you this way. I'll talk to Felix, all right?"

He nods with a dip of his chin. "Thanks, bro."

* * *

**Reminder: the news article about the fire, which the story's leading up to, is posted in the first chapter :) **


	6. Chapter 6

**Special thanks to Lisa, Lexi, Francesca, and Kitty :)**

**Oh, and a small reminder: When Bella sparks up a smoke and drinks alcohol even though she's pregnant, remember that it's 1980. It was a lot more common back then to smoke or whatever when you were pregnant.**

* * *

**Grand Tale**

**Chapter 6**

**Junior's POV**

Translation:

Sto venendo = I'm coming

La tua fica è così calda e stretta = Your pussy is so warm and tight

Bell'uccellino = Beautiful little bird

~oOo~

When I get home that night, I kiss my sleeping children before making my way to the bedroom, though I don't go to bed. Instead I sit down in the chair on Isabella's side of the bed, and I just watch her sleeping form as countless scenarios run through my head. Again, God forbid if something happened to her. Or our kids. I'd show mercy to no one, and then I'd probably die out of misery.

All that's left to do before we take out Carlisle is picking out a good location to end him, and then I'll work on making Isabella mine—officially. I won't let her refuse me. I'm a selfish bastard like that. But Carlisle's death needs to look like an accident, which takes time to plan, so I gotta have patience. Especially since we don't want to kill Esme or Alice in the process—both of whom are often with him these days. He's paranoid, and I'm guessing he keeps them around as human shields? I don't know, but if he loved them, he would send them away. On a vacation or something.

We'd also like to know if we have Emmett on our side, though Felix doubts it. We'll just have to see. At least I know my dad won't be too upset. He's getting sick of Carlisle's way of running the organization, and both Felix and I have noticed a tension between the two at family dinners. See, Dad's always said, "This thing of ours—these _friends_ of ours…they don't go hand in hand with what we have at home. There's family and there's _family_. Keep 'em separated."

And Carlisle's done the opposite.

Right now, he's on a mission to find a suitable husband for Alice, and it needs to be someone he can benefit from.

Things will probably heat up around here soon, and I wonder if I should send Isabella and the kids to a safe place for now. Just 'til things cool down.

Watching my own back is enough as it is. Watching Isabella and the children, too…

I sigh and rest my elbows on my knees, eyes still focused on my hummingbird.

As if sensing my stare, her eyes flutter open.

"Hey, baby," I whisper.

"H-" She clears her throat from sleep. "Hi."

_Madonn'_, she's gorgeous.

"Is something wrong?" she asks hesitantly and sits up in bed.

I shake my head no. Yeah, a few things are completely fucked up, but it's all gonna work out.

"You're so beautiful when you're asleep," I murmur. "You always are," I wave a hand and chuckle awkwardly, "you know what I mean." I rub the back of my neck.

"_Ciccino_," she breathes out, followed by her eyes welling up. "I miss you."

And I cover her body with mine in an instant.

"I miss you, too, hummingbird," I groan as we kiss hungrily. The urgency and sheer need almost take my fucking breath away, but instead of slowing down, we both go rougher and harder. I need to taste her—taste all of her, which I tell her. "_Voglio assaggiarti tutta_."

"Junior," she moans as I pull down her panties. I kiss my way down her flawless body, her full tits, her swollen stomach, her curvy hips… "Mmm, _ciccino_…"

Getting comfortable between her legs, I lower my mouth to her pussy. I lick her greedily and hard, making her whimper and cry out. She fists my hair, guiding me, and I groan in pleasure. Her taste, her scent, her desperation—I crave it all, and she gives it to me. For some reason, it feels like we're on the same page or some shit. I don't fucking know.

When I suck on her clit and finger-fuck her deeply, she starts convulsing. She also gets louder. This is how she always is, but there's still something that makes it even better when she's pregnant. Everything is intensified.

"_Madonna mia_," she cries out. I moan against her soaked flesh. "_Sto venendo_!"

Like some teenager, I almost lose my shit. Her voice, that tenor, the pitch…it's rich yet breathy…and it makes my cock impossibly harder.

Her orgasm hits her hard, and I lick up the drops of arousal that trickle down from her pussy. I don't stop until she tugs on my hair, which always means the same—time to stick my dick in her. And I do. After crawling up her body again, I shove my cock deep inside of her. Unfortunately, it's not enough for either of us. Her belly is in the way, so we roll over, and then she starts riding me.

Sitting up, I kiss, lick, and nip at her luscious tits. "_La tua fica è così calda e stretta_," I moan.

She hums and covers my mouth with hers. Her fingers go to my hair again, pulling, twisting, as she continues to move over my cock. My own fingers dig into her hips. _Fuck_. Deeper and harder. Long strokes. She's so fucking wet for me.

Our breathing becomes labored, and after a few minutes it can't really be called kissing. Our lips touch, but it's more about exchanging breaths than anything, and it's smoking hot. I taste and feel her everywhere, which makes my abs tense and insides coil. That's just what she does to me. And then more—she swivels her hips and constricts around me. At the same time, her noises become lighter and more hurried. Fuck, I'm close.

"That's it," I groan breathlessly and slam her down on me. "Come on my cock, _bell'uccellino._"

"Yes!" Her head falls back, and she starts trembling and tensing. I suck hard on her neck. "God, _ciccino_. Only you—_solo tu_…_ahhh_!"

Only me? I can't help but wonder how deep that goes—how much she means that. But before I can ponder further, Isabella falls apart above me, taking me with her. The climax surges through me, rendering me stupid, breathless, and speechless. I grit my teeth together, still coming, and my eyes are squeezed shut.

In the end, we're a tangled mess of limbs on the bed, and the only thing you can hear is our panting.

Then I ignore the exhaustion and push myself up. It's been a while since I gave her stomach attention, and it's all I want now. I kiss it, I pray for another healthy little one, and much like I did when Isabella was pregnant with Anthony and Elisa, I promise the baby in there that I'll do my best at being a father. I might not be the most affectionate man in my everyday life, but I love my children with all my heart.

"You're so sweet, Junior," Isabella whispers, and I look up at her. "What are you doing to me, huh?" It doesn't sound like a question she expects an answer to, and that's good, 'cause I don't know. "I promised myself—fought to keep myself from…" She trails off, her head landing on her pillow again.

I don't know what the fuck she's on about, so I return to kissing her stomach a little.

And then, the next day—after I've talked things over with Felix—we send our women and children to live at the MGM Grand for a while. Just 'til this shit has blown over. No one followed us over there, so it should be safe. We also ordered Jasper to watch them. His own kids are there, too.

**~oOo~**

**November 20th 1980**

A Thursday, a couple weeks later, the capos and a few out-of-town friends of ours meet up with Felix at Twilight to talk money, shipments, and other shit. Well, the capos talk. Out-of-towners come to pay tribute, and then they leave. It's what we've done for years now, though we usually do it on Tuesdays. But it was Carlisle's order to have it done today instead—two days later. Otherwise, Tuesday is now the day I always come home late. Because I don't just linger for the shit that only concerns me anymore. Instead I've turned into Felix's right-hand man, and I stay as long as he does. I'm also tagging along tomorrow for breakfast when Felix hands Carlisle his money for this week.

"Good week," Felix comments when it's just Emmett, Alec, and me left in Felix's office. "But we should probably let the money from Jared's heist circulate for a while." I nod at that. Jared—a guy who's closest to Emmett—is a risktaker, and this week he robbed a money transport outside of Reno. The money could be marked.

"You're meeting Dad tomorrow at eight, right?" Emmett asks his big brother.

"As always," Felix responds as he hands me an envelope. I know the deal; I don't let the money circulate in places we own. Casinos are good places, which is why he hands Emmett an envelope, too. Gambling is his thing.

"He asked me to be there, too," Emmett mentions before taking a swig of his scotch. Felix and I exchange a look. 'Cause…why would Emmett be there? "Don't ask me why." He shrugs. "Probably just paranoia."

It could be that, yeah. Carlisle never meets up with anyone nowadays unless he has several guys with him, but…this is Felix—his own son. Does that mean Carlisle suspects something?

Feels like it.

"Well, we'll see you guys tomorrow morning, then," Felix finally says, locking eyes with Emmett.

"_We_?" he questions.

Felix nods. "Junior, too."

Emmett looks to me but says nothing.

I think it's clear that we wouldn't—_won't_—have Emmett's support in taking care of Carlisle.

I guess it's a good thing Felix and I won't tell him anything.

An hour later, I make my way back to the very empty condo. I'd go over to the MGM, but it's three in the morning, so… Plus, I gotta feed Tito.

**~oOo~**

**November 20th 1980**

**Hummingbird's POV**

Translation:

é una stronzata = bullshit

Questa é una fottuta pazzia = This is fucking crazy

Chi non risica, non rosica = Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

~oOo~

"Stop it," I tell the boys for the hundredth time. I knew a sleepover wasn't the best idea, but Heidi and I wanted to spend some time together tonight, so here they all are—Heidi and Felix's three, Jasper's two, and Junior and my two. Oh, and let's not forget the kicker inside of me.

Elisa and Lucia are asleep, but the boys? Forget about it.

"If you don't pipe down, I'll call your father," I warn Anthony, and his crooked grin is wiped off his face. Oh yeah, he knows that Junior is one hell of a disciplinarian. He loves our kids something fierce—which he shows—but he's not one to back down when Anthony or Elisa act out.

"Same goes for the rest of you!" Heidi shouts from the living room area here in my suite. "Francis, Luca, and Angelo, do you hear me!"

Another three grins are gone.

"You too, Nico," I tell my nephew. As much as I love the guy, he's also getting on my nerves. He's ten years old, and none of the rest is older than four. The shit he can teach them… "Jasper is just two doors down. Want me to get him?"

He shakes his head.

With a firm nod, I leave the master suite and join Heidi, who has two Long Island Iced Teas waiting for us.

"_Grazie_," I sigh and get comfortable in my chair. I sniff my drink, making sure there's not too much alcohol in my drink. But it's okay. Just a little. "I don't get it, Heidi—three boys? How do you survive?"

She lights up a cigarette, a wry smile on her lips. "I pray a lot."

I laugh. "Can you imagine?" My eyes widen. "Juniuh wants one more right after this one." I place a hand on my belly. I refrain from adding that I adore children and want more myself. 'Cause sometimes I'm in a bitchy vent-mood. This is one of those moments—moments where everything is the men's fault. "But he's not the one who hauls them all over the city when he runs into trouble." I shake my head and give the ceiling a quick glance. "God knows what they're up to now."

"I think it has something to do with Felix's dad," she whispers.

I nod, having heard of Carlisle Colucci plenty of times, especially growing up. Dad didn't like him. Jasper doesn't, either, but he's loyal to Junior, and so am I.

"Does Felix ever tell you anything?" I ask and take a sip from my drink. _Madonna mia_, so good. "About—" I lean in a little and keep my voice low "—about work."

I'm not stupid; I know Junior is a made man—so is Jasper—and I know my brother works for Junior. Or Felix. I also know that the "business trips" Junior and Jasper go on—sometimes Alec, too—aren't for promoting the clubs they own here.

"Not really. He keeps everything separated." She exhales some smoke then smiles a small smile. "He did let me meet his sister last week, though."

I know. Junior told me. "Alice, right?" She nods, and I do, too. "She's nice. Had a crush on my brother—so Junior made sure she stopped coming around. Something about Carlisle not approving. Brianna comes sometimes," I rant. "Not often—a few dinners every once in a while. I like her. She's sweet. She had a little boy last year—so cute."

Brianna even expressed that she wanted me to be Colin's godmother, but we both knew Junior wouldn't allow it, so…

"Haven't met them," Heidi mutters, looking a little wary. I know she is—we both are—but we brush it off as best we can. We won't be part of their closest family—it is what it is. We're there on the side. In the background.

I think I have it better than Heidi, though. Junior told me only has kids with me, and I think I believe him. But we know that Felix has two children with his wife.

"Junior told me he doesn't sleep with his wife!" I blurt out.

It's something that has been eating at me for months now.

Heidi looks at me like I've gone insane.

I fear she's right.

She stares at me, eyebrows raised.

"Am I nuts for wondering if he's telling the truth?" I ask anxiously. Then I take a big swig of my drink, followed by Heidi offering me a cigarette. I take it. I need it. "It's been five years." I pause to light the smoke. "Five years. Haven't felt a thing for him—okay, _é una stronzata_." I laugh nervously. "I care for him—I _have_ cared for him, but now?" Fuck. I take a deep drag and let it out slowly. "I'm in love with him." I tap my temple. "Which is fucked up."

Junior, after our big fight, set some shit in motion, I think. I watched him after that, and I wanted…want…to believe him. That I'm the only one for him. That he only loves me, fucks me, kisses me. And then…the way he is with our children? So sweet and amazing. He's both loving and strict, giving and demanding. Elisa has him wrapped around her little pinky, but when she throws a fit, he takes care of it. Sure, he sometimes just hands her over to me, but not always. Not even most of the time. And when Anthony puts on his tough-guy act, Junior takes him down a peg or two. Our son idolizes both Junior and Nico—he forgets that he's only four years old. But Junior knows. He's a good dad.

"I'm in love with Felix, too." Heidi shrugs. "You can't help who you fall for, sweetie."

I chuckle bitterly. "My heart wasn't supposed to belong to him, but then—then he says shit like that?" I place a hand over my heart. "How can I not fall? He promises what I crave: devotion, fidelity, love." My lip quivers, and I hate it. "But I'm afraid to believe him—fuck!" I take another pull from my cigarette, and I don't really smoke. What a mess this is. Stupid feelings. Stupid emotions. "_Questa é una fottuta pazzia._" Now I'm losing it. Dammit. "_L'amore e cieco_. Love is blind," I laugh humorlessly. "My mother—God rest her soul—" I do the Sign of the Cross "—would laugh at that crap."

Heidi looks amused.

"_What_?" I ask, irritated.

She laughs. "You know I don't understand what you say, right?"

Right. She's German. Ugh. "Doesn't matta'," I say, waving it off. "I'm just rambling."

"_That_, I know." She grins. "But be serious, Bella—"

"Junior doesn't call me that," I mention for no reason at all. "He calls me Isabella. I like it. Love it. Love him." I palm my face and peek through my fingers. "I'm going nuts!"

"Good God. Now—" she gives me an impatient look "—have you told him you love him?"

"Hell no!" I shout then clamp a hand over my mouth. "Sorry." I put out the cigarette. "No. I haven't told him." And I start another rant. "Well, I have, but he knows I've been lying—smart fucking man," I mutter. "He told me when I was about six months pregnant with Elisa, and I said it back, but—" I shrug "—he saw through me, I guess. And now…" My shoulders slump. "Now I know that I really am in love with him, and—and I'm terrified."

She cocks a brow. "Ah-huh, and why?"

"Because I'm twenty-six years old—" I place a hand on my chest "—and I'm already so tied to Junior. Two kids, another on the way—only three weeks to go—and he just…owns me. In just five years, I've gone from stripper slash fucking whore-"

"You were never a whore!"

I shrug. Technically, I was. Heidi and I both were. We entertained several of Felix's customers before we got snatched up by our men. _Our men—what a joke._ Not that I give a shit about what I did before, but…eh. "No matta'." I wave her off. "What I'm saying is that in just five years, so much has happened. I was a twenty-one-year-old nobody, and now I'm Junior's supposed big love? _And_ we're a family. Come on. How much more does he need?"

"I don't get it." She lights up another cigarette. "So what if you're a family? You're both in love—embrace it."

I shake my head. "He'll break my heart. If, in five years, he can take so much of me, how will it be in another five years?" I hold out my glass as she pours herself another. "It's only a matter of time." I smile in thanks and take a sip from my refilled drink.

Ugh, my back is killing me. Don't even get me started on my feet.

"Only a matter of time before what?" she huffs. "You're acting like things won't work out."

Obviously. Growing up, I learned that men aren't satisfied with just one woman. And if I give in to Junior, if I tell him that I'm devastatingly in love with him, he will have everything. Then when he's had his fill and moves on, I will be crushed.

"For God's sake, Bella!" she cries out. "Stop being a brat—let the man love you."

"I'm not being a brat," I say defensively.

She nods. "Oh yes, you are. Look at you." She waves a hand at me. "You sit there in that expensive dress—Junior only makes you buy the nicest brands. You have a purse full of cash. And the jewelry he gives you? Please, girl." I look down at myself, at what I'm wearing. A simple black cotton dress—the kind that sort of wraps around you? It's a thin material. 'Cause I'm pregnant and sweating like a pig. And my jewelry…the gold bracelet, the diamond necklace, the earrings… "On top of all that, he tells you you're the only one, Bella. You're acting like a brat."

"It's not about the fucking money," I hiss, shaking my fist at her. And, for the record, Heidi wears the same kind of expensive clothing. "It's about whether or not I can trust him. Do you trust Felix? Huh? Do you trust that you're the only one he puts his dick in?"

"Yes. He told me, and I trust him."

"Well…" I scoff and lean back in my seat. "Must be nice to be you."

She sighs. "You've told me about your mother—how she grew up, what she believed was right… And maybe it was the truth for her, but it doesn't have to apply to you. Or Junior. Just because your father fucked around…" She trails off.

I feel drained, weary, and weak. I hate weak.

Luckily, I catch a break when there's a knock on the door. Since it's past midnight, I assume it's my brother.

And it is.

"You should be in bed," is the first thing Jasper says when I've opened the door for him.

I roll my eyes. "Yes, Father."

"Cute." He jerks his chin at me. "And stop with the eye-rolls, sis." Then he lets himself in. "My kids asleep?"

"Yeah." I follow him back to the living room. "Lucia went out a while ago, and Nico maybe half an hour ago. They've all been hopped up on sugar."

He chuckles and gets a beer and some macadamia nuts from the bar. "Well, if you stopped spoiling them with candy…" He lets out a sigh in content as he sits down on the couch across from Heidi and me, where we sit in two chairs. He nods at my stomach. "How's my niece or nephew?"

"Good," I say, smiling. "And the kids, they need sugar." I shrug. "I don't want them to be skin and bones."

God, how I miss cooking. After weeks living in a hotel, no matter how fancy it is, it gets to be too much. All I want is to go home, cook a nice meal, and put my kids to bed—their own beds.

I don't ever wanna go through what we did, starting when my parents died. Things suddenly got tough, and then Jasper was arrested out here…I moved, too, and supported Nicola and Lucia on a bullshit salary. We don't come from a wealthy family, but we still had what we needed. And then it just wasn't there anymore. Hospital bills from when Mom and Dad were sick…paying off the house, the cars… Plus, Dad had some gambling problem we didn't know about, and Jasper had to settle the debt after we buried our father.

As a result, I've been spoiling my niece and nephew—and my own kids, of course—ever since Junior walked into my life.

Besides, Jasper spoils them, too.

His children's mother—Mary, that stupid cunt, I hope she rots in hell—got herself killed when Lucia was five months old. Well, the official story is that she disappeared. The unofficial story—the truth—is that she was a pill popper who didn't care for her children. And one day, when my brother came home after a weekend out of town, she was passed out in the bedroom…while Nico and Lucia were in the next room…crying their eyes out. They hadn't been fed, changed, or anything. They were also dehydrated. So, Jasper lost it. Once Mary was released from the hospital, she went missing.

I'm pretty sure my brother killed her.

"I spoke to Felix earlier—he's staying at the condo tonight." Jasper tells Heidi then looks to me again. "Junior's probably staying back, too."

I nod. "Okay."

"So…" Jasper makes a bubble face and pats his stomach. "Anything to eat around hea'?"

Suddenly tired, I accidently yawn as I respond. "No—sorry. There's always room service, though."

He nods. "Go to bed. Juniuh doesn't like seeing you tired—he'd want you to get your rest." He nods again, this time seemingly to himself. "He's good for you, sis—treats you well." He looks down. "I wish he could make you his wife, though."

Yeah. Wife. Like that'll happen.

Regardless, I believe I have a lot to think through. Am I being smart, or am I being a brat?

I don't fucking know. All I know is that I don't want to get hurt.

After all, Junior hasn't promised me a future. I'm his secret. That's it. Pardon me for being cautious.

Then again…_Chi non risica, non rosica._

But it's a hard decision to make.

What I don't know right now…is that my decision will be made tomorrow morning when I wake up and we're trapped up here.

How ironic, death surrounding me will make me appreciate life.

**~oOo~**

**The morning of the fire...**

**Junior's POV**

At a little before seven the next morning, Felix and I drive out of town to meet up with Carlisle for breakfast at his house.

The ride is silent, but we don't need to discuss anything. We know that the air will probably be thick with animosity when we arrive, but we also know that nothing will happen in their house. Not with Esme, and probably Alice, so close. The only thing we don't know is how much Carlisle suspects. It can't be _more_ than suspicion, though, because Felix and I have been so careful. We haven't even included my father yet, which was what we had planned to do. But in the end we decided to leave him out of it. So, it's just four people who know. Felix, me, Alec, and Jasper. It's three too many in my opinion, but at least they're people I trust. And whenever we've been out of town, we've had our alibis covered.

"Here we go," Felix mutters as I drive onto Carlisle's street. "You think he brought more than Em?"

I shrug and flick some ash from my smoke out the window. "Probably Nick, Tony, and Frank?" They're his usual guys when it comes to security. Always nearby—always ready. Their car should be here somewhere. Even if they're not in the house, they're not far away. "Yeah, over there." I point straight ahead, seeing their black Cadillac.

Felix nods, and I stop the car when we reach the gates.

Some guy lets us through, but with the intercom crackling, I couldn't quite hear, though it might've been Emmett.

"I don't think Emmett knows a lot," Felix says thoughtfully as I park, and that's the last thing he says before leaving the car.

Esme greets us with a beaming smile when she opens the door for us.

"Carlisle told me you were both coming," she says, holding her arms out for Felix. "Come here; give your mother a hug. I don't see you often enough."

Felix smiles and hugs Esme, and then it's my turn.

"You too, Edward—not often enough." She gives me a squeeze before letting go. "I've set up breakfast in Carlisle's office—he's waiting for you."

Carlisle, Emmett, and I guy I don't recognize are there when we enter the office.

"There you two are!" Carlisle's grin is way too wide and forced. "Come in, come in. Let's eat."

Oh, he's certainly up to something.

"Joe was just leaving," he adds, motioning at the stranger.

And without a word, _Joe_ leaves.

"How are the kids, son?" Carlisle asks Felix as we take our seats around the large table. "How many kids do you have now—five?"

A couple of forks clatter and everyone goes silent.

One of Carlisle's rules has always been not to mention certain things in his house. The names of goomahs and bastard children to name a few. He doesn't even bring up Michael and Petey in this house, even if they're part of my crew—meaning they're involved in the organization.

And Felix only has two children with his wife—Gianna—yet Carlisle mentioned five.

"Everyone's good," Felix says casually, and I mirror his stance.

I lean back in my chair, acting as if I don't have a care in the world, and take a sip of my coffee.

"_Molto bene_." Carlisle claps his hands together, still with a grin on his face, then turns to me. "And you, Junior, how're the kids?"

I stare at him blankly. "All good, Carlisle."

"Good! Glad to hear it. Children—a beautiful thing." He nods to himself and digs into breakfast. "You have one of each, yes?"

Narrowing my eyes, I study him for…I don't know what. But this isn't my game. I hate beating around the bush, and I don't do well with fake bullshit.

"Yes," I eventually answer, and he nods for me to go on. I suppress a sigh. "Anthony's four, Elisa's almost three."

His smile widens. "And you have another on the way?"

I grit my teeth together, anger making my pulse quicken.

"Hey, Pops, what's this all about?" Emmett chuckles nervously, which makes me smile internally. Either he really doesn't know—like Felix said—or he's just…I don't know.

This is all fucked up.

"Nothing in particular," Carlisle answers Emmett. I want to wipe the smirk off his face. "Just…catching up a bit."

_Catching up. Right. Go fuck yourself._

"Speaking of family…" Carlisle clears his throat. "Jane visited Esme last week, and then Esme came to me."

I remain calm. "Oh, yeah? What'd she have to say?"

I'm honestly curious. By now, Jane has to know that if she opens her mouth about certain things, I will give her the mother of all beatdowns. Hell, I'll fucking kill her.

"She confessed to Esme that she was never pregnant in the first place," he says lightly. My blood runs cold. "Imagine my surprise, huh?" Aside from his fake amusement, the room is silent. "At first, I didn't believe her. I'm not blind or stupid." He points to his temple. "I've noticed her little problem with alcohol."

"Pills too," I hear myself saying. "But then you believed her? Her word mattered more than mine?" I smirk. "Nice."

And his smile is gone. "What are you insinuating, Junior?"

I hold up my hands. "Just sayin'."

He stares at me for a long while, and in my periphery, I can see Emmett squirming in his seat. It leads me to believe that Felix was right; Emmett doesn't know anything. He's on his father's side so far, but he's not involved in the current plans that are most likely running around in Carlisle's head.

"Hmm." Carlisle hums. "Well, it's done with now." He points his fork in my direction. "Don't lay a hand on Jane. If she's gone, so is our arrangement with her family—I won't have that."

"He won't touch Jane," Felix lies, knowing very well that I'm going to kill her.

She disrespected me by going to Esme about that crap. Plus, divorces are a drag. I want her gone. _Pronto_. Which will be possible the second Carlisle dies. I will also make sure we still have Jane's father in our pocket.

Carlisle laughs. "Oh, I want him to touch her!" Sick son of a bitch. "But no _harm_ comes to that woman."

_Or else?_

Then there's a knock on the door, and once Carlisle has told whoever it is to enter, Esme appears.

"What is it, _amore mio_?" Carlisle asks her.

Esme looks torn and a bit shaken. "In the kitchen—I was listening to the radio…" I frown when I see tears in her eyes, but then again, both Esme and my mother are emotional people—even for women. "It's all over the news—another fire."

I calm down some at that, 'cause that's not news to me anymore. I don't know what the fuck is going on, but there have been several fires in this state over the past couple of months. They seem too random, though, and no one has been targeted. No one from our family has even been close to being harmed, unless we count Alec. There was a fire at the restaurant he was at, but with his car being rigged at the same time, it seemed as if the fire wasn't planned but the bomb was? Something like that. I rarely believe in coincidences, but in this case it's just too far-fetched.

We're watching our backs, especially Alec, but we don't think the fires are linked to us. Besides, a fire like that isn't a sure way of killing anyone.

"Where is it this time?" Emmett asks as he starts slicing an apple.

"The MGM Grand."


	7. Chapter 7

**Special thanks to Lisa, Lexi, Francesca, and Kitty :)**

* * *

**Grand Tale**

**Chapter 7**

**Junior's POV**

All air leaves me in a whoosh, and I suddenly feel nauseous. I also feel like I've been punched repeatedly in my gut…all while someone's been stomping on my chest.

"The G-Grand?" Felix chokes out.

"Oh no, that's a travesty," Carlisle mutters. "Such a beautiful hotel."

I blink.

I can't fucking breathe.

Slowly, I turn to Felix as Esme goes on about the fire that is currently raging over at the Grand, and I vaguely register that my hands are shaking. In my head, three names go on a loop. Over and over. Isabella. Anthony. Elisa. Isabella. Anthony. Elisa.

"We need to—" My throat closes up and I jerk my chin at the door.

Felix nods silently, eyes wide.

"Wait—what's wrong, boys?" Esme asks, concerned.

I shake my head and stand up. My knees almost buckle, and I don't know how the fuck Felix and I are going to drive the forty minutes to town. Oh, God. Fuck. No, she's okay. I shake my head again. She has to be. They're all fine. Maybe Esme's exaggerating. The fire could be small. The media could be blowing this up.

"Emmett," I grit out, refusing to break down when I know nothing. "Can you—" I release a breath. "Can you drive us?"

He frowns in confusion. "Where? Now?"

"I don't understand—what's going on?" Carlisle asks.

And I explode. "My fucking kids are there!" I scream, panicking. I fist my hair, easily ignoring Esme's loud gasp. "Isabella, I have to—I have to get to her." With panic comes action, and I can finally move. "God forbid, God forbid." I run out from the room, Felix following. "Emmett!" I shout. My hands are still shaking, and it feels like everything is crawling inside of me, ready to burst through my skin.

"They're fine, they're okay, we're worrying for nothing," Felix rants to himself. "Oh God, they have to be okay."

Emmett runs out, too, and then we drive away in his car.

**~oOo~**

On the way into town, we listen to the radio, and if I was panicking before, it's nothing compared to now. We listen as they report of fire throughout the casino on the second floor—something about restaurants, too—and that the fire has trapped everybody inside.

Right now, there are helicopters evacuating people from the roof, and I pray to God that Isabella and our babies are three of them. Or that they're already out. Yeah. And not a hair out of place. Oh, fuck. I palm my face, scared shitless for the first time in my life.

Then there's Jasper and his kids. Jasper. "Jasper's there," I croak, nodding to myself. "He'll get them out—fuck!" I punch the seat. "I should be there, I should get them out! They shouldn't have been there in the first place!" I swallow down a sob. I press my knuckles to my mouth.

Emmett floors it, and when I look out the window, I can fucking see the smoke coming from the Grand.

"They're okay," Felix says firmly, but his voice breaks at the end. "They're okay."

"Five minutes," Emmett says quietly.

Patting my pockets, I quickly locate my smokes and light one up. It takes a while, 'cause my fucking hand can't stop shaking, but… "_Cazzo_," I exhale shakily. I take drag after drag, and my eyes are glued to the pillar of smoke in the distance. I can't see any fire, 'cause there's shit in the way.

By the time my cigarette is gone, Emmett pulls over. The entire block has been closed off, so we're on foot now.

"Emmett," I say, getting out of the car. "Go find a phone; I want Alec at Dawn—tell him to call all the hospitals…" I swallow thickly. "We'll contact him there—at Dawn." I run a hand through my hair.

After a quick goodbye, we split up. Felix and I run toward the hotel and casino, and Emmett heads to the nearest payphone.

**~oOo~**

Translation:

Elisa, piccola mia—sta bene? = Elisa, my baby—is she okay?

Devi dirmi tutti, Alec! = Tell me everything, Alec!

~oOo~

Two hours pass without answers, and I almost get arrested for assaulting a cop, but Felix manages to pull me back. It's damn infuriating, 'cause _no_ one offers answers. We stand there, looking like complete idiots, and we feel useless, helpless, and powerless. Not that we can get too close, but close enough to see the smoke, to hear the sirens, to smell the destruction…

I can't say that I'm close to breaking down or anything, but I am, however, ready to slit some throats in exchange for some _fucking_ answers!

And whenever we call Alec from a payphone, he has no news.

"Let's call your brother again," Felix sighs heavily, and we have nothing better to do, so I don't argue…even though we called him twenty minutes ago.

We enter a soda shop, and Felix pays the girl behind the counter a twenty for letting us use their phone.

Alec answers on the first ring.

"Anything?" I ask, both weary and ready to explode. Felix leans in to listen, too.

_"Just got off the phone,"_ he says in a rush, and I tense. _"Jasper called here—Elisa's been admitted to the hospital—"_

"Oh, _God_. _Elisa, piccola mia—sta bene_? Is Isabella there? Anthony?" My free hand flies to my mouth, and I squeeze my eyes shut. "_Devi dirmi tutti, Alec!" _I scream and punch the wall next to me.

**~oOo~**

Translation:

Ti amo tanto, tantissimo—solo tu = I love you so, so much—only you.

Ti amo. Il mio cuore è tuo = I love you. My heart is yours.

Bimba mia Bella = My beautiful baby.

Dammi una mano, per piacere. Non voglio che stia male. Sono un maledetto idiota = Help me, please. I don't want her to be in pain. I'm a fucking idiot.

~oOo~

I'm in a daze as Emmett drives me to the hospital. There's no word on Heidi and the three boys yet, so Felix is sticking around, waiting, hoping, going fucking crazy. Alec's at his beck and call. And right now, the only thing I have to keep me sane are Alec's words about my family being okay. Elisa's coughing and rasping after inhaling so much smoke from the fire, but she's stable. It's just a precaution that she's there, but it's still enough to bring me to my knees.

When Emmett finally pulls in to the hospital, I'm out of the car and running toward the entrance.

After a minor shout-fest, I get clearance, and then I run again. The elevator is too slow—too many people—so I take the stairs.

Each step brings me closer, but each step is also a chink in my armor. I feel weaker and weaker, and the thoughts running through me are the worst kind. Thoughts of what could've happened…they almost fucking cripple me.

I finally get to Elisa's room, and right before I push the door open, I have to take a second to calm down. But then I know it's not gonna happen. I swallow convulsively and give the door a push, and as soon as I spot my family, my eyes well up. Elisa's in the hospital bed with a some fucking mask covering her gorgeous little face, and Isabella's sitting in a chair next to the bed—she's crying silently—Anthony in her lap.

I see grime and soot all over their clothes and skin.

"Daddy!" Anthony sees me first, and he squirms down from Isabella and runs to me. That's when I break. Tears spill over, and I catch my son as he jumps.

I hug him to me so tight, crying openly when I smell the smoke on him. His hair is greasy, his clothes are smudged—it's his pajamas, I notice—and I can't believe how close I got to losing them today.

With Anthony clinging to me, I walk over to Isabella. I kneel down on the floor, between her slightly parted legs, and snake my free arm around her. Then I pull her to me, effectively burying my face in her stomach, and I start sobbing like a baby.

"_Ciccino_," Isabella cries. "I-I…"

I squeeze them both harder. "You're okay," I croak, looking up at her. "I love you—God—you're okay." I cup her cheek and brush my thumb under her eye. Shit, the soot, the grime. "God forbid." I hold on to her as I start peppering kisses on Anthony's face. "_Mio piccolo tesoro_. I love you—_ti amo tanto_." He whimpers and tightens his hold on my neck, and I look up to Isabella again. I almost lost them. I almost lost them. "You-" I choke up again and shake my head. "The doctors—have you…?" I palm her protruding stomach. "Is everything okay?" Then I press my knuckles to my mouth and look over my shoulder where Elisa's sleeping in the hospital bed. She looks so tiny and fragile. "Oh, _angioletto mio_." I look to Isabella once more, pleading with my eyes. "She's okay—t-tell me she's all right."

She nods. "She's fine—we're fine, thank God," she whimpers and cups my cheeks. "Junior…you're here." She throws her arms around both Anthony and me. "I was so scared."

I can't even imagine. "I'm here, baby." I kiss her hair. "My hummingbird—I love you."

She releases a breath and sinks further into my embrace. "I love you, too. So much."

I shake my head, slowly backing away a little. "Isabella…" Not today. I don't want that lie thrown in my face today. "Please just…don't."

"Oh, _ciccino_!" she gasps and cups my cheeks again. "I'm not lying, I'm not lying." She shakes her head furiously, tears streaming down. "And this isn't something—just… Not because of the fire. I love you. I know—I've known for weeks. I'm sorry." She gulps, and my vision gets blurry once more. "I think—I don't know. Maybe for longer, but since the fight? You got under my skin." Her face crumbles. "I can't deny it, and—I talked to Heidi last night. Heidi!" She starts crying, sobbing. "She has to be okay. We were supposed to meet for breakfast!" She does the Sign of the Cross, and I swallow hard. "She has to be okay—and the boys. Oh, God."

"Hummingbird," I beg.

As important as Heidi and the boys are, I'm a selfish prick, and I need for her to get back on the fucking track.

"Right, right." She nods and nods and nods, and then laughs through her tears. "I love you, Juniuh. I told Heidi—asked for advice, or I vented. No matta'." I can't help but grin; she sounded so much like me there. "I was scared to tell you," she admits in a whisper. My humor is gone. "You'd have all of me—you do have all of me. And now you know it. Just…don't break me," she pleads. "Anything you want from me—it's yours. I'll take whatever you offer. But don't…" She looks so sad that my fucking heart hurts. "Don't leave me behind."

Admittedly, I understand her fear, but she has nothing to worry about.

"I'm so fucking yours that it's not even funny, hummingbird," I chuckle through my own tears. I can feel a huge weight lifting off of my shoulders, and I know why. To know—to see it in her eyes—that she loves me. Finally. At last. There are no words.

"I won't ever take you for granted," I promise, holding her hand to my heart. "I love only you, Isabella, and our children, and…" I take a breath. "You'll be my wife. Say you will."

She stares at me, not saying a word.

Then…

"I won't take your wife's place," she whispers, shaking her head.

My eyes widen. "No!" I'm shaking my head, too. "Never, Isabella. My one and only, okay? We'll get a new place—a house, not too far from town. You'll see me every day—every night I will be there. Not when I'm outta town, but you know. You're my only one, and my wife won't be an issue much longer," I rant, and Anthony starts fussing in my arms. He reaches up for Isabella, and she takes him, all while watching me with apprehension and doubt written over her features. I can't blame her. "I will prove it, _bell'uccellino. Ti amo tanto, tantissimo—solo tu_. We'll be a real family—I'll give you my name, my everything."

She's still hesitating, and again, I can't fault her for that. It only means she's smart. After all, she's been my mistress for five years now, knowing that I have a wife. But I will prove it to her. Now that Carlisle's days are numbered, nothing can stop me from getting rid of Jane. I admit, she is a victim here, but I don't care.

"It's the five of us," I say, nodding. "You, me, Anthony, Elisa, and this little guy." I splay my hand over her belly, wishing I had Elisa in my arms, too. "And any other children we'll have—God willing."

She sniffles and chuckles a little, though I can still see wariness. But I will get her to say yes to me soon. "It could be a girl, you know."

I shake my head. "You looked just like this when you had this one." I kiss Anthony's cheek. "I know." I point to my temple. "No one knows your body like I do. You'll see."

"Okay, we'll see," she giggles then sniffles some more. We sober at the same time, and I kiss her softly on the lips. "_Ti amo_."

"Fuck, that feels so good." I sigh contentedly. "Say it again."

She smiles. "_Ti amo_. _Il mio cuore è tuo._" I steal another kiss, feeling so happy. "Now." She grins and points behind me. "Go to Elisa. I know you're dying to."

I laugh through my nose and stand up. "You know me well." And with two more kisses—one for Isabella, one for Anthony—I walk over to Elisa's bed. She's still asleep, but it can't be any deep sleep. I know my little angel, and when she's not still, she's about to wake up. "_Bimba mia bella_," I murmur, brushing a piece of hair from her forehead. "Does she need this crap?" I ask, worried, and point to the mask. And suddenly, more questions rush out. "I need to know everything—can you tell me?" I look to Isabella. "Where's Jasper? Nico and Lucia? What happened—how close where you? Heidi and the boys—Felix is losing his mind—fuck!" I need to call him, or call Alec. Shit. "Everyone's okay, right?"

She tells me. She tells me everything. How Jasper busted the door, waking them up, and told them there was a fire. The front desk had called him and said he had a message he needed to come down and get right away. It was urgent or something. But the fire started when he got there, so he went up again to warn them. "There was smoke everywhere, and so much screaming," she cries quietly. "At first—I thought the fire was close." And she goes on to tell me about the smoke billowing out from the stairwells, even the fucking elevator shafts. They were literally trapped for a long time, and they hid in Isabella's suite. They were in the bedroom, soaked bath towels on the floor, by the door, to make sure smoke didn't get in. "And Jasper went in and out, trying to find Heidi and the boys." My eyes well up, and I'm thankful that Anthony has fallen asleep in Isabella's arms. They lived through it, and I can barely hear about it? Fuck. "They were supposed to be with us—we had a sleepover. Well, the kids did. Heidi went to her suite around two." Then she continues and says that the boys weren't there when Jasper woke them up the next morning—this morning. "I don't know how long we were in there—me, Anthony, Elisa, Nicola, and Lucia. And the crying…God, we were so scared, but I refused to let it show—I couldn't. We prayed. Then Jasper came back again—said that there were firefighters who were gonna help us get to the roof."

"Christ," I whisper thickly and look down at Elisa.

"Jasper took Lucia and Elisa—carried them both—and I held Nico's hand." She breaks down and sobs. I tell her to pause, to breathe, to relax, to wait, but she shakes her head and goes on. "A firefighter carried Anthony, and we went up… There was so much smoke—hysteria. Crying and screaming, everyone tried to run up. The firefighters were cursing and yelling—something about the elevator shafts and stairwells basically coaxing the smoke to travel up." She breathes. "We ran into more firefighters, and they had masks for us. Then we continued—we reached the roof."

I remember they said on the radio, something about helicopters evacuating people.

"Then we were rushed here," she croaks, wiping her cheeks. She also pauses to hug our sleeping boy to her. "Elisa was coughing so much-" She chokes up, and I feel myself doing the same. "She was crying and coughing, which made it hard for her to breathe."

Leaning down, I press gentle kisses to our daughter's forehead as I blink back tears.

"She's okay now?" I ask, eyeing the oxygen mask.

"Yeah," she exhales shakily. "They're going to check her again when she wakes up—she should wake soon—and then we'll probably be discharged right away. The doctor said it got worse because she was crying—like she was panicking?" I nod. "But it's better now."

"Good." I nod again. "That's so good." I kiss Elisa's forehead again.

A few minutes later, Elisa wakes up, and we call the doctor to get in here.

"Daddy," she rasps softly, and I lift off her mask.

"Hey, you," I murmur and caress her cheek. "How's my little angel?"

She gives me a toothy grin that relieves me. "Good. Where's Tito?" She coughs a little.

I shake my head, both amused and overwhelmed. "I remember when you were so scared of him, and now he's the first one you ask for?"

"No, nevuh scared." She pouts and shakes her head. "I wanna go home—not the hotel." Her lip quivers. "Was a big, big fire," she whispers, and my heart just breaks. "I didn't like it."

"You're not going back there—I promise." I lift her hand to kiss it. "How's your—does it hurt? Anywhere?" My finger ghosts over her throat, which probably tickles because she giggles…before she coughs, and I feel like an ass. "Fuck, I'm sorry, _piccolina_!" I help her up and rub her back while she coughs. "I'm such an-" I groan and look to Isabella. "_Dammi una mano, per piacere. Non voglio che stia male. __Sono un maledetto idiota_." Then I face Elisa again, relieved that her coughing has ceased. "Daddy's so sorry," I whisper.

"S'okay," she rasps, smiling. Her eyes are shining, too. I sigh and slump down again. "Daddy?"

"Yeah?"

She gives me another pout. "Can I have new puppy? Tito always wiv Anthony. And Tito—no puppy now. He's big." She holds her arms out wide. "This big."

And that's how I know Elisa's gonna be okay.

I let out a breathy chuckle. "Check you out." I playfully nudge my fist to her chin. "You know I won't say no, don't you?"

She shrugs, still grinning.

Shortly after that, the doctor comes in, and I step back while he gives Elisa a checkup.

In the meantime, I speak quietly with Isabella, again asking where Jasper and his kids are. And she tells me that he took them out for ice cream. Apparently, that's good for their throats—ice cream and tea—so I decide to do that, too, later when we're outta here. But before that…

"So, no word on Heidi?" I whisper.

Isabella shakes her head sadly, tears spilling over. "Jasper tried finding them… God, they have to be okay, Junior. I hope they're in another hospital."

I hope so, too. Christ, Felix has to be freaking out.

**~oOo~**

A week later, without giving Brianna a reason, I ask her to watch Anthony and Elisa at one of the apartments Felix owns here in Vegas. She's not allowed to tell anyone where she is—not even her husband—and I picked her up before, making sure no one followed us.

Then I attend a funeral with Isabella.

Heidi, Luca, and Angelo didn't make it.

Francis was found, and he's miraculously okay, but the rest…

They died of carbon monoxide poisoning—smoke inhalation. That same shit killed seventy-five people. Eighty-five in total died.

We guess that Heidi and the boys were on their way down to The Deli—which happens to be the restaurant where the fire started—for breakfast.

I hug Isabella to me as she cries.

We're so much closer now—closer than ever before. I opened up to her about my marriage and told her that I was forced, that I was never attracted to Jane, and that I didn't have the choice to divorce her. I think Isabella believes me. I hope so. And I told her once again that I want her to be my wife, at which she asked why I can suddenly divorce Jane. I clammed up for a while, not really knowing how to answer. Then I just told her that things were changing and left it at that.

I will get her to say yes soon. I need my family. I want us together, sharing the same last name, and I want to introduce her to my parents.

I can and I will, but one man won't ever have that opportunity.

Felix stands stoic, holding his crying four-year-old son in his arms. Francis lost his twin brothers and mother. Felix lost the woman he loved and two sons.

I know he's looking for someone to blame—hell, so am I. It makes everything easier, but I'm not sure there is a guilty party. We'll look, but…

After the funeral, we hold a small wake at a restaurant—one that a guy in Alec's crew owns—and Felix remains silent. The women, Isabella, Angela, and a few others, share memories. They also take care of the few children who are here. The men, Emmett, Alec, Jasper, Mike, Petey, a couple others, and I talk about nothing. Insignificant bullshit.

Felix says nothing.

Until we're ready to leave.

As I straighten out my jacket, outside the restaurant, he leans in and whispers in my ear.

"My father did this."

I stare at him.

He nods. "Meet me at Twilight tomorrow—we'll talk."

**~oOo~**

Around nine PM the next night, I walk into Twilight and head straight for Felix's office.

It's funny how being a father sometimes takes it out of me more than whacking a fella. With my being a little paranoid and more than a little protective, I won't allow Isabella to take the kids back to the condo. It's not safe—not until we have all the answers and we know if there was a fucking mark on them. I still doubt it, but you never know. So…we're all cramped up in that little apartment—in which building Felix owns—and I make sure no one knows where we are.

The kids get bored easily, hence my being drained, but at least they're alive. Francis has been staying with us, though, so at least Anthony's happy. They're the same age—my son is only a couple months older—and he's been able to distract Francis. Elisa is another story. She can't wait for her new puppy to get here—yeah, I caved; no fucking surprise there—and I think, while she's waiting for the pup, she wants everyone to be as miserable as she is.

With a shake my head, I get rid of those thoughts for now.

As soon as Felix lets me in, I take a seat across from him.

He doesn't waste time. "Jasper was the target at the Grand. Our families—collateral damage." He shrugs, eyes dead. It's like he's shut off. As he speaks, my mind spins. "You remember that man who was at my father's house—the man who left when we got there?" I nod, frowning. "I've done my homework." He pulls open a drawer and reveals a small stack of paper. "The day before yesterday, I broke into Dad's office."

"Damn," I mutter, surprised.

He shrugs again. "I was there anyway—Mom had us over for dinner. When we left, I—I didn't really leave. I snuck back in. Easy." I nod for him to go on. "Right. Well, I found this in his office." He slides one piece of paper toward me, and I pick it up. It's a photo. "His name is Joe Ricci. And he's from Jersey."

I raise a brow. "Affiliated?"

"Sort of like Jasper—he is, but he isn't? Joe's dad ran with Jasper's dad and so on. Anyway, I did some digging—I also asked Jasper for confirmation…" He releases a breath. "Jasper knows _of_ Joe, but Joe was in prison back then, so neither was close. Long fucking story, but to make it short… Jasper got married at eighteen to Joe's half sister."

"Shit."

I don't know what else to say.

"Yeah, and Jasper's ex-wife isn't exactly someone we know of."

I purse my lips. I do know. But only a little. "Isabella told me that what's-her-face disappeared." And I know very well that the word "disappear" means something else entirely. "Mary, I think her name was."

Felix nods. "And Joe got outta prison last year—has looked for Jasper ever since."

All right, a fucking vendetta. I see it. "And he found Jasper through Carlisle, or…?" I scratch my nose. "That doesn't make sense. Carlisle hates Jersey."

"Ah, but see, Joe hates Jersey now, too." He smirks. "Joe went to Vinny—the Jersey boss—and wanted the 'okay' to ice Jasper. Vinny said no, 'cause he's not sure he believes that Jasper killed this Mary, and… Thing is, Jasper's only done a few things for his father—that's it. So, Vinny hardly knows Jasper—he was never really in. But Vinny was supposedly pretty close with Jasper's dad, so Vinny wants Joe to let it go—it happened more than eight years ago."

"So, Joe flipped," I say flatly. "He turned to Carlisle."

Felix nods. "My guess? Joe contacts my father, tells him some bullshit story about Jasper really working for Jersey—and we know my old man is a paranoid fuck—bam, Dad believes that shit and has a reason for wanting Jasper gone."

I purse my lips, thinking, letting things settle.

The timing fits. If Joe recently got out of prison…and Carlisle has never had an issue with Jasper _before_… 'Cause Carlisle hasn't known about Jasper's link to Jersey. We haven't had a reason for telling Carlisle, 'cause it would've only had caused unnecessary drama. Jasper's father's dead—the only real link between the Savonas and Jersey—but Felix and I both know that Carlisle wouldn't have looked past that. He's a petty man.

So, Joe divulges about Jasper to Carlisle.

One question, though. "How did Joe find Jasper out here? How does he know Jasper works for us—Carlisle?" Okay, two questions. "And why would Joe show his face at Carlisle's when we were there?" Make that three.

I get _why_ Joe came to Carlisle; when he found out Jasper's with us… Yeah, Joe doesn't want trouble. He just wants Jasper. And killing him without Carlisle's permission—or whatever I'm going to call it—might've caused him…well, death. So, he feeds Carlisle lies, and in return, Carlisle hands over Jasper on a silver platter.

I don't fucking know.

And I wonder if Vinny knows that Jasper's with us.

"Jasper hasn't exactly been hiding." Felix shrugs. "Doesn't take a genius to find people. And we've had the girls at the Grand for a while. A small mistake is all it takes… Joe finds out and starts clocking him."

True. "But why would Carlisle get involved? There's gotta be something in it for him—more than getting rid of Jasper." I get up from my chair and start pacing. "And to start a big fire like that? Granted, Carlisle doesn't give a fuck about how many die, but still." I shake my head. "It's too big. Huge hotel… And again," I stress, "why would your father get his own hands dirty? If I were him—" I point to my chest "—I would've just sent Jasper on a fake gig and have Joe waiting for him—pop one in his head—that's that." I wipe my hands clean.

Felix looks pensive. "You're right. A fire like that—it's too much for just _one_ person."

I'm already shaking my head, 'cause I know what he's thinking. "As fucked in the head as your father is, I don't think he put out hits on not only Isabella and Heidi, but seven _kids_—also counting Jasper's two. Sorry, but I don't see it. He wants me to fuck my wife—well, fuck him. But he wouldn't kill my _comare_. Or yours, for that matter."

It's practically a rule: we don't go after children.

"But we agree that Jasper's the target?"

I nod. "That makes sense." I snap my fingers, just remembering something. "Fuck yeah, Jasper was called to the front desk right before the fire started. An urgent message was waiting for him. Isabella told me. He was down there and rushed up, so…" My mind starts spinning again, as does my pacing. "That could be it. Maybe they didn't mean for the fire to cause such destruction." I fish out my smokes and light one up. "We read the papers the days that followed—remember? That stuff about the elevator shafts and stairwells practically being a fucking freeway for the smoke. And it was smoke inhalation that killed most people—not the actual fire. So…" I blow out some smoke. "Technically, the fire wasn't huge. And it's a smart idea—if you think about it." I tap my temple and nod. "There have been several fires in Nevada the past couple of months. This could be just another one. Nobody would think this one is different from the others. Carlisle would get away with it and everyone would think the fire was an accident."

Smart idea, like I said, but again, a fire like this isn't a sure way to take care of the one you have your eyes on.

Felix nods slowly, his fingers tenting on the desk.

"And like you said," I continue, anger running through me, "our families could be collateral damage. Not real targets, but…" I shrug.

"_Madonn'_," he curses. "I've had it. Screw making it look like an accident—I'm ready to whack him right now."

I smile.

"Looks like we have work to do," I muse.

My trigger-happy finger twitches.

"Dad and Joe—who else?"

I nod and think for a moment. "We have to do it soon. Joe might try with Jasper again soon—which reminds me: maybe we should send him away for a while. As for others…" I puff out my cheeks before exhaling. "I'm not sure there are that many. You have most guys in your pocket already." It's the truth. I can't think of anyone who wouldn't follow Felix when he steps up. "There are a few old-timers, but…I don't know. We've cleaned up the shit back East—those who worshipped the ground Carlisle walks on."

He nods. "Jane?"

I smirk. "I have plans for her."


	8. Chapter 8

**Special thanks to Lisa, Lexi, Francesca, and Kitty :)**

* * *

**Grand Tale**

**Chapter 8**

**Junior's POV**

Translation:

Quanto amo la tua fica = I love your pussy.

Ti piace cosí, amore mio? = You like that, my love?

Ah, non ti fermare—non…non fermarti mai = Oh, don't stop—don't…don't stop

~oOo~

It's past four in the morning when I finally return to the apartment, and I'm fucking exhausted.

We've made our plans, though, so it's all good.

Jasper will be here tomorrow morning to drop off his kids, and then he's off to Florida for a job.

Passing the living room where all the kids sleep, I make my way to the little bedroom down the hall.

"Isabella," I whisper as I remove my clothes. I usually don't wake her up when I come home late, especially not when she's pregnant, but nowadays she often asks me to let her know when I get here. I love that.

As soon as I'm naked, I sneak under the covers and kiss my way up her body. "Hummingbird." I kiss her soft thighs, squeezing them a little. I just can't get enough of her curvy body. After two kids and one on the way, she's even more perfect than she was before. "Damn," I groan under my breath when I reach her panties. Red lace—she's trying to kill me, I'm sure of it. I'm also sure that she's awake, because as I tug on the skimpy lace, she lifts her hips an inch or two.

All I want to do now is eat her pussy.

And then fuck the shit outta her.

She lets out a sleepy giggle when I toss her panties somewhere around me, and it's quickly followed by that humming noise I love so much. Then it's a moan when I bury my face in her pussy.

"You're lucky I'm always so fucking horny. Insatiable man."

"Oh, yeah," I breathe out, nuzzling her wet clit. "Only for you."

Both her previous pregnancies have been very similar when it comes to her sexual appetite. The first two months are a no-go, and she gives me blowjobs instead. She just doesn't feel it, but it's okay, 'cause she turns into a freak after that, which lasts 'til the homestretch. Right now, with only two weeks to go, she's horny but uncomfortable. So, as long as I make it comfortable for her, she's all for it. Hell, she demands it.

Soon she won't let me go near her for a while, but again, it's okay, because she still satisfies me with her mouth. Not that I demand head when she's waddling all over the place; she gives it anyway. I stopped demanding shit when I fell stupid in love with her, yet she's acted as my mistress—the woman who always puts out.

I hope that shit changes when I make her my wife.

Okay, not the putting out. The rest of it, though. I want her opinions. She has a choice. Within reason.

"_Quanto amo la tua fica_." I suck her clit into my mouth and slam two fingers inside of her. She gasps when I curl them upward. "Right there? _Ti piace cosí, amore mio?_"

"_Ah, non ti fermare—non…non fermarti mai…_ _Ungh_…yes!" she cries out.

I moan and lick her hard. Fuck, how I love her taste. She doesn't have to tell me not to stop, 'cause I'm going anywhere 'til I'm done. Needing more, I slip my tongue inside of her, groaning. My fingers rub her clit.

"Junior…oh, God…I'm gonna…gonna…"

She stiffens, and I speed up and add pressure.

More moans and groans follow from both of us as she rides out her orgasm, and I'm eager to lick it all up.

By the time she relaxes, my cock is ready to drill a hole through the goddamn mattress.

I kneel on the bed, one hand stroking myself. "All fours, hummingbird," I say huskily, wiping my chin. Jesus. I watch her positioning herself for me, and the sight of her… "Gorgeous—so sexy," I whisper. My hands slide up her thighs, over her perfect ass, and then I give her ass a smack.

She hums. "Mmm, fuck me, _ciccino_."

"That's the idea," I chuckle and align my cock with her opening. I grab her hips, letting my fingers dig into her soft flesh. Then I push. Hard. "_Christ_."

I go rough, fast, and I hear how my hips slap against her ass cheeks. I also hear how wet she is, which is another thing about Isabella being pregnant. She's always so fucking drenched. She's usually slick and hot for me, but this…this is more. Arousal trickles down, a drop or two every once in a while, whenever I hit a particular sweet spot inside of her.

"I love you—fuck, so much," I moan, looking down to where my cock disappears into her.

"Damn, you too," she whimpers and pushes back. "Love—love you. I love you."

I'll never get tired of hearing that.

Sitting back on my heels, I pull her with me. This is a position we both love. She bounces up and down my cock while I rub her lower back with one hand—the other reaches around her to palm a breast.

"Oh, yes," she groans.

_Goddamn_. I start panting into her neck. She feels so good. And her tits…those sensitive nipples… I moan and buck my hips, meeting her when she slams down. _Close_.

"I'm there, baby," I grit out. Desperate and wanting her to come once more, I slide my hand over her stomach and down to her pussy. "Fuck—so wet." I rub her hard with my middle finger, pausing once or twice to stroke her pussy lips. She digs that, and fuck, I do too. Her skin is smooth and warm, neat, with soft curls. "Oh, Isabella, I need you to-" I grunt and fight back my orgasm but, thankfully—before I explode—she stiffens above me and cries out.

With a low groan, I let go and follow. I thrust lazily, head tilted back, eyes partly closed, jaw slack, and cock pulsing inside of her.

"Oh, my God," she breathes out.

"Yeah," I pant then swallow. "Fuck."

We both collapse on the bed, legs and arms tangled together.

It's the best way to fall asleep.

**~oOo~**

Translation:

E' un piacere conoscerla, Signor Maisano = Pleased to meet you, Mr. Maisano.

~oOo~

"Lucia, nooo!" Elisa screams. "My puppy, my puppy!" She pushes her cousin away, or she tries. "Go!"

I chuckle and sip my coffee, eyes on the gazillion kids who are playing on the kitchen floor. Okay, so they're not playing so much as they are trying to get the new puppy's attention. I brought the little guy home early this morning—a Jack Russell—and Elisa's ecstatic…if only she wasn't surrounded by aforementioned gazillion kids. Jasper dropped off Nico and Lucia around six before he left for Florida, and Francis is here, too. Felix should be here soon for lunch.

Isabella is preparing said lunch, and this kitchen is pretty tiny, meaning she almost falls over every once in a while when the children get too close.

Speaking of…

"Ay!" I shout, watching as Anthony and Lucia nearly ram into Isabella. For Christ's sake… "Watch what you're doing!" I point to Isabella. "You want her to fall and hurt herself, huh? Apologize."

"Sorry, Bella," Lucia whispers.

"Sorry, Mama," Anthony mumbles.

Isabella winks at them. "It's all right, sweethearts." Then she blows me a kiss.

I smile.

She's too good to them all. Sure, she raises her voice and yells at them sometimes, but she lets them get away with too much.

"Go bother Nicola instead," I tell them, pointing to the door.

"I heard that, Zio Eddie!" Nico shouts from the living room.

"Good!" I respond, chuckling. Kid's always watching TV. That shit didn't exist when I was little. And even if there's nothing on, Nico's glued to the damn thing.

"Go, go!" Elisa shoos both Anthony and Lucia out of the kitchen, looking so fucking cute. "Only Fwrancis and I play with Lucy."

I can't help but laugh. Since Elisa got the puppy, she's changed its name ten times.

"Lucy is a girl's name, _angioletto_." I grin at her. "The puppy is a boy."

"Oh…" She frowns at the dog. Tiny little thing. It fits in my hand, really. Those dogs are always small, but as a puppy? Forget about it. It's more like a rat. But it's cute, though, and perfect for Elisa.

"Daddy, I need boy name." She pouts and walks over to me. "Help me?"

Picking her up, I place her on my lap, and one of her hands goes to the hair on the back of my neck.

"Mama's good with names, too," I say, kissing her cheek. "She had a dog when she was little." Looking over at Isabella, I ask, "What was his name, again?" I only remember that she and Jasper named their dog after the town in Sicily their dad comes from.

"Milazzo," she chuckles, but then she winces and rubs her belly. It's weird how I both hate and love that. My son is a wild one, and I love touching her stomach when he kicks, but he also has the tendency to plant his foot to her ribs.

"You okay, hummingbird?" I ask, worried. "Maybe you should sit down."

Twelve or eleven days 'til due date, I think.

She smiles. "No biggie." She waves it off. "Where does your family come from? I only remember my father's family—Milazzo. That's it. They fled to America after Mussolini sent Mori to clean up Sicily." I nod, having heard many stories of that kind from Mrs. Coppoletta, not to mention my own grandparents before they died. "I know my mother was Sicilian, too, but…not the town her family's from."

"_Mil_-zo!" Elisa cheers.

I laugh and kiss her noisily. "_Molto bene_!" My girl is good. "God, I love you, baby."

"Love you," she sings. "_Mm-to-bene_!"

This girl cracks me up. "Means very good."

"M'tay, I wanna play wiv Lucy now." And she jumps down…to play with Lucy, the boy dog.

Isabella just shakes her head in amusement.

I return my attention to Isabella's question. "My mother's family's from Sorrento. They came here at the turn of the century, so they've been here a while." I hum, trying to remember where Dad's family is from. This is new between Isabella and me—we've never discussed family before. But now is different. In the past week or so, we've opened up about pretty much everything—everything that I'm allowed to discuss, that is. "My father's family came here from Sicily the year he was born." My brows knit together. Something about…Adrana, Adrio… "They're from…Adrano? Not sure."

She nods and gets something from the fridge. "There's a small town near Etna—it's called Adrano."

"Daddy!" Elisa's screech has my attention once more. "Boy name!"

I suck my teeth. "So demanding. Can you ask nicely?"

Ah, the pout again. "Boy name for Lucy, pwlease?"

"Better." I nod. Since we have Tito, which means "giant", I'm about to suggest "piccolo" or something else equivalent for "little", but there are four rapid knocks on the door, indicating that Felix is here. "That's your father, Francis." I smile at him and stand up.

"Up, up!" Elisa holds her arms out for me, so I pick her up again and take her with me.

Tito and…um, Lucy…follow.

I was right. It's Felix. Only, he's not alone.

My dad is standing there, too.

I've known for a while that Dad's aware I have children, but it's nothing we talk about. Ever. Whenever our guys have brought girlfriends and mistresses to various clubs—and Pops has been there—I haven't brought Isabella. She and my children have always been my safe haven—my secret. It's the way I've wanted it, needed it, in order to cope with all the bullshit that otherwise fills my everyday life.

"Good to see you, son." Dad smiles carefully, eyes flicking between Elisa and me. "So, this is your daughter?"

I nod with a dip of my chin, a bit happy that Elisa's hiding her face against my neck—something she always does around strangers.

"And what're you doing here?" I ask.

"He knows everything now," Felix replies pointedly. "He came to me this morning…"

"I'm just done," Dad says tiredly. "Victoria's next." I know he's talking about more matchmaking. "And Carlisle's found a husband for Alice in Kansas City. He wants to expand even more."

"Shit," I mutter. That means Alice is moving. We'll put a stop to that, though. "All right, so you told him?" I look to Felix, and he nods. "Okay. Come on in. Lunch is almost ready."

As they shrug out of their coats in the hallway, I lean in to my father. "Isabella is going to be my wife," I say quietly.

_She just has to say yes first._

He surprises me by smiling. "Don't worry." He clasps my shoulder. "I will treat her with respect. And I already know—Felix told me about Jane."

Well, that's not really Felix's business to get involved in.

"I asked him for advice," Felix explains, keeping his voice low. "He is the _consigliere_, after all, Junior. And I want Jane's father to still be with us after this."

"That won't be a problem," I assure them both. "But let's talk about this another time."

They both nod their consent, and I head straight for the kitchen, knowing that this is another occasion I won't have enough time to prepare Isabella for meeting parts of my family.

"Felix hea'?" she asks, smiling.

"And my father," I add, walking over to her. She stiffens, just like I expected, and I repeat the same words I once used when it was Brianna and Alice coming over. "I didn't know he'd be here. But you're going to be yourself, yeah?" I kiss her cheeks. "I only want you, hummingbird, so be yourself."

"Okay," she breathes out. "But I'm not dressed for-"

I cut her off. "You look perfect." Heavily pregnant, she often complains about heat no one else feels, so she's wearing a black cotton dress. But it's modest and classy, sleeves ending at her elbows, skirt reaching her knees, and a subtle cleavage. She looks exquisite.

"I love you." I kiss her nose. "Want Elisa?"

She nods and holds out her hands. "I love you, too." Then she smiles and looks me in the eye, and I see confidence, for which I'm glad. "Come here, _piccolina_." She hugs Elisa to her just as Felix and Pops enter the kitchen.

"Isabella," I give her a wink, "this is my father—Edward Senior. And, Dad, this is my Isabella."

"_E' un piacere conoscerla_, _Signor_ _Maisano_," Isabella offers politely.

"Oh, look at that," my father says to no one. His smile is wide. "Such a beautiful young lady, Isabella." He cups her cheeks. "And call me Ed. I hear we'll be family soon."

Isabella blushes—something I've _never_ seen her do before.

"All right, Pops," I chuckle. "Let the woman go. I'll introduce you to Anthony."

My chest feels light as I take the lead to the living room.

Felix stays behind in the kitchen to be with Francis.

"Now that I know who she is—_cazzo_—she looks just like her mother," Dad comments, which makes me come to a halt. "Renee—God rest her soul." He does the Sign of the Cross, and I stare at him, shocked.

"What'd you just say?" I whisper-shout in disbelief.

**~oOo~**

Translation:

Che bel giovanotto che sei = What a handsome boy you are

~oOo~

Standing there in the hallway between the kitchen and the living room, Dad explains everything in a hushed voice. He tells me that Felix has filled him in on Jasper and Isabella—mostly Jasper since we believe he was the target at the Grand—and when Felix mentioned Jasper's ties to Jersey, Dad asked curiously _how_ he was linked to them. In turn, Felix told him about Jasper's dad and that Charlie Savona worked for one of Vinny Malletta's capos—something Jasper has divulged only recently. And that's when my father had pieced it together, 'cause he grew up with a woman named Renee, who later got married to a Charlie.

"Renee left Brooklyn in middle school—I'm a few years older," Dad whispers. "Moved to Jersey with her family. After that, I heard it through the grapevine—she got married to a connected guy out there…Charlie. I just didn't remember his last name."

I'm still stunned, but then again, if you're born in the same neighborhood, you know each other. That's just how it is. Your neighborhood is your world, basically.

He continues. "The few times Carlisle conducted business with the Mallettas, I was there—fucking had to be, to smooth things over." I snicker, knowing very well that while Carlisle hates Jersey, Dad never had issues with them. "I even met Renee once at some restaurant. She was pregnant…must've been with Jasper—I get that now." He chuckles under his breath, wistful. "I hear they moved around a lot—between Jersey and New York."

I'm kinda eager to tell Isabella all this. Shit, had it not been for her mother leaving Brooklyn, maybe I would've known Isabella growing up. Then again, we moved to Manhattan when I was only five years old and then out here to Vegas when I was nineteen.

"What a small world," he muses. "I can't believe Jasper, who's been in Felix's crew for years now…it's the same Jasper! And Isabella…gorgeous girl." He nods. "You're lucky, son. She'll make an excellent wife."

I smile wryly. "You said that about Jane."

"Now, that's a lie." He wags his finger at me. "I said the union would be beneficial for the family—never said she'd be perfect for _you_." Okay, that's true. "And I apologize, son." He shakes his head, looking solemn. "I should've put my foot down a long time ago-"

"And then Carlisle would've made sure you ended up in a ditch," I finish.

Carlisle demands loyalty, but he's not exactly loyal himself.

We know that now.

"I'm ready to leave all that behind me," I mutter, running a hand through my hair. "Hell—I've been ready to do that for years."

He nods. "You love her very much."

"I do."

"Good! I'm glad you'll have what I have with your mother."

I don't comment, but I'm glad to hear it nonetheless.

"Speaking of your mother…" He grimaces a little. "Esme managed to spill to her about your children before Carlisle and I could tell her to keep that to herself."

I'm not too surprised; she and my mother are very close. And that dreadful morning, when I screamed out that I had children at the MGM Grand, I didn't exactly give a fuck that Esme heard me.

"I take it Mom wants to meet my children." I give him a tight-lipped smile. It's not that I don't want the same, I'm just afraid Mom won't approve of Isabella. My mother would never voice her opinions, out of respect, but there's no hiding the fact that Isabella has been my goomah.

"She wants to meet Isabella, too."

"Can't wait," I say sarcastically. "But it'll have to wait 'til all this blows ova'. Not now."

With that out of the way, I usher my father into the living room where Nico's watching TV and Anthony and Lucia are trying to teach Tito new tricks. That's Isabella's smart thinking. 'Cause when "Lucy" arrived, Tito was abandoned for a few hours…until Isabella told our son that the puppy was too young to learn tricks, whereas Tito wasn't. So, now Tito's the coolest ever again in Anthony's eyes.

"_Madonna mia_, he looks just like you, Junior," Dad whispers. "But his hair is darker."

That's true. Anthony looks so much like me, but his hair has darkened a few shades, meaning he has his mother's hair now.

I smile. "Anthony, c'mea."

He looks up and grins crookedly, though it fades a little when he sees my father.

"Who's that, Daddy?" he asks, holding out his arms for me.

I take the hint and pick him up. "This—this is my dad."

"I'm your grandfather—your nonno," Dad says, actually looking emotional. His eyes are shining as he places his hands on my son's cheeks. "_Che bel giovanotto che sei_." He looks at me. "Give Isabella our name," he says firmly and lets go of Anthony. "This is something to celebrate."

I grin, relieved and agreeing.

~oOo~

Lunch is fun, a welcome break in our now somewhat uprooted life. While I'm sure Anthony will one day have questions as to why he hasn't met my pops until now, I'm not too worried about it. We'll deal with it when the time comes.

Aside from Heidi's death, which is written all over Felix and Francis, we talk, shout, laugh, and act carefree. Anthony seems to like my dad, and I'd say Isabella thinks the same. He's a sly fucker, my old man, and he loves to flirt—innocently, of course. That was never me. I'm not nice enough, nor do I care. The only one I've wanted to pursue or be nice to is Isabella, and after five years I've finally claimed all of her. I'm not going anywhere. I'm set for life. Done.

Dad, on the other hand, charms the shit outta Isabella, making her giggle and blush.

It's amusing. And a little frustrating…but I let that crap go.

She's happy—happy on a whole new level—and that's what matters.

After lunch, Isabella tells the kids to stay with her in the kitchen, which means I have privacy with Dad and Felix in the living room. We speak quietly, in hushed whispers, about our new plan, which will be executed in exactly four days. It won't be an accident. There's no time for that.

Before, we didn't know when, but with my old man in on the plan, we do know. He's Carlisle's closest, and he can guarantee what we need—a time and place.

Carlisle won't go down in an original way.

Like many before him, his closest will take him out.

**~oOo~**

Translation:

Sei scimunito = Are you stupid?

yak, blow = slang for cocaine

c-note = hundred-dollar bill

Reference to Alec's joke: from _The Godfather_, "Leave the gun. Take the cannoli."

~oOo~

Three days later, Jasper returns from Florida.

Tomorrow, Carlisle will be gone.

And right now, close to midnight, Jasper, Alec, and I are in a private garage outside city limits. It's where we're keeping the car Jasper brought with him from Florida. A car he stole—as ordered—from a few Cubans who are fucking with our business down in Miami. Nothing major—nothing we can't handle. Two of the mentioned guys are here, too. Very dead. In the trunk.

"How'd you clip 'em?" I ask curiously, looking down at the two bodies. There are no marks of them whatsoever. Alec moves to touch one of them, so I smack the back of his head. "Ay! _Sei scimunito_? Back off."

Alec scowls and backs away. There's a reason he ain't a hitman. Every day, the Feds get better at finding evidence, and Alec doesn't know how to be careful. He's killed before, _obviously_, but I wouldn't exactly trust him with the cleaning.

Jasper smirks and pulls out a bag of…ah, coke…from the chest pocket in his leather jacket. "I held them at gunpoint and made them snort line after line. Then I got bored—they kept passing out, so I suffocated them." He shrugs.

I point to the bag. "Good shit?"

"I should hope so!" he laughs. "It's ours—so yeah, it betta' be good."

"Oh, it's good," Alec huffs and points his thumb at his chest. "I only get us the best products. Pure—very little laxative."

"Okay." I laugh through my nose and jerk my chin at the blow. "Wanna do a line?"

It's been a while since I hit the yak, and I could go for some. In fact, it's been more than a year. I've done it every now and then when Jane's been a particular pain in my ass. Whenever she's bitched about something, I've smacked her on the mouth then gone to my guest room where I've kept a small stash hidden. But lately, a phone call to Isabella and the kids has helped more. And even more recently, I've barely even seen Jane, so…

"Sounds good." Jasper nods. "So, what've I missed—anything new?" On the hood of the car, he prepares six lines. "My kids good?"

I nod. "They all met my pops a few days ago. Went well."

"Yeah? He liked Bella?"

"Definitely," I chuckle. "He knows I intend to marry her."

"Good. Good." He points at me. "She deserves the best."

"I know—and get that _fucking_ finga' outta my face." What's with people nowadays? The nerve… "You know I love her," I tell him. "Have I given you reason to doubt me?" I widen my arms.

He holds up his hands. "No disrespect. My mistake. Still…"

And I nod, 'cause I know where he's coming from. Isabella's his little sister—I get it.

"She's my only one," I admit, rolling up a c-note. "Unlike you—how many bunnies do you have?" I chuckle. With a dismissive wave, I wordlessly tell him to take a step back, and he does. "Alec." I jerk my chin at him. He goes first.

"A few." Jasper grins. "Gotta keep my mind occupied until I get a chance with your cousin again."

I don't respond.

It's up to Felix, or even my father, if they approve of Jasper for Alice.

A few years ago, I interrupted shit before they could even start, but Isabella told me that their attraction was mutual. Not that I give a fuck—ain't my business. But I knew Carlisle wasn't gonna like it, so… Eh, no matter now.

Jasper does the next hit, and then I follow and snort my first line.

"Ah, _cazzo_." I swallow convulsively and tilt my head back. I sniffle, too, and try not to cough. Alec was right; this is good shit. It's like the best wake-up call—not counting Isabella sliding down on my cock or putting her mouth on me, of course. Now, _that's_ a good way to wake up in the morning.

"We spending the night here?" my brother asks.

"Yeah." I lean back against the car. "I booked us rooms at the motel down the road—I've already checked in. And Felix will call me tomorrow morning from Twilight when he gets the green light from Pops."

Felix will meet us on the way, coming from the opposite direction, and he will have Michael and Petey with him, too.

"_Mannaggia_, I'm starving," Alec mutters and rubs his stomach.

That makes me think of Isabella's ravioli from last night.

I groan under my breath.

"What?" Jasper asks.

I chuckle. "Thinking about Isabella's cooking. Her ravioli?" I kiss the tips of my fingers.

"My favorite is her lasagna," he replies.

I nod. "Also a winner. Everyday, it seems, it's something new. And it's more than dinners. Side dishes, desserts, drinks…" I palm my face, suddenly aching for my family. "Her fucking biscotti? Jesus Christ!" I kick a tire. "I can't get enough."

"Her chocolate/orange cannoli," Alec supplies with a faraway look on his face. Then he laughs. "_That's_ something to leave the gun behind for!"

I snicker. "She uses the orange peels—then dark chocolate-" I groan again.

This isn't how I imagined our night would go, but we spend the next few hours doing blow and talking about my hummingbird's cooking skills.

It's like we're women.

Fuck.

**~oOo~**

The next morning, Felix calls to tell me that everything is still on for eleven AM.

After that, I wake up Alec and Jasper. We eat, we bullshit for a while, and then we get ready.

We may not get all the answers to our questions, but we _will_ kill that son of a bitch today. That's what matters the most.

Before we leave, I stand in the bathroom and stare at myself in the mirror.

There's a sinister grin on my face—one that I hope Isabella or my children _never_ see. And it's weird, because…because I'm so fucking aware of it all. I _know_ when I lose it. I know when I distance myself from feelings. There's still some semblance of control left in me. But the thing is, in this case, I'm _not_ distancing myself. I want to feel this. I want to be the last one Carlisle sees in life. It makes me feel good. Which means I'm so fucked in the head. I'm not a good person.

It is what it is.

Although, I'm pretty sure Felix will be the last one he sees in life.

With my eyes still on the mirror, I straighten out my jacket. I fix my tie. I run a comb through my hair. I check my jaw, making sure I didn't miss anything when I shaved earlier. I attach my watch to my wrist. I stare down at my open palm, thinking back on when I got my button eight years ago.

_"You've always made me proud, Junior," _Carlisle told me after the ceremony. _"You and my oldest—you and Felix… You're both made for this life."_

He was right.

Felix and I are made for this life, which now means it's the end of Carlisle's.

Ten minutes later, Jasper, Alec, and I reach the garage.

"You drive," I tell my brother, tossing him the keys. "Jasper—in the back, behind me."

And we're off.


	9. Chapter 9

Special thanks to Lisa, Lexi, Francesca, and Kitty :)

* * *

**Grand Tale**

**Chapter 9**

**Carlisle's POV**

Translation:

Non posso andare più veloce di così! = I can't go any faster!

~oOo~

After receiving that phone call from Ed, I let Esme know that I'm heading out for a bit.

Tony and Nick go with me and Frank stays behind.

I rarely leave the house unless it's necessary, but Ed insisted that I come down to Twilight, and he couldn't divulge more over the phone.

It better not be more trouble, because I have enough of that as it is.

My biggest headaches are Jasper Savona and Alec.

Joe, the wise guy from Jersey, contacted me and told me all about that Savona.

Jasper thinks he can snake his way into my family and then kill me? I shake my head. He will get his. Soon, hopefully, and Joe better not fuck up this time. Everything was supposed to be taken care of in that fucking fire at the Grand, and then I was gonna take care of Joe. I'd tell Felix or Junior to do it for me—say that the associate in my office that morning was here on business and flipped on us or something.

Junior with his love for guns wouldn't hesitate.

But that didn't happen.

Instead my son's comare and two children died. That wasn't the plan. I can't say that I care too much, but it still wasn't the plan. I knew Junior's whore lived there—who happens to be Jasper's little sister—and _she_…yeah, she can die for all I care. Ever since Junior took her in as a mistress, he's been softer, and I can't have that.

That's why I've tried to take out Alec. Twice. He's trying to get out—leave our thing—and escape. I just know it. I've seen it in his eyes at family dinners—Alec doesn't want this. But again, things didn't go down as I planned, and instead I ended up with a pile of bodies back East. Marcus died, Jim died, Notti died… And the last time I tried to take Alec out, only his whore died.

Kathryn? Karen? Kate? Something.

It's clear that someone is out to kill me, and I have two suspects. Either it's Chicago…or it's Junior and Alec.

I pray it's Chicago.

With a sigh, I try to clear my head and enjoy the ride for a while. Since I'm going down to Twilight, maybe I'll have time to see Mina—one of the whores I've visited a few times in the past year. Because I won't ever take a goomah again. The last one became a headache. First, she gave me two bastard children, and as if that wasn't enough, she was always complaining about something. Oh, and she wanted me to leave my wife.

I laugh under my breath at that absurdity.

In the end, I made her disappear, and after that, I've stuck to faceless pussy.

"What's that?" I hear Nick ask from the passenger seat.

Looking up, I try to see…anything, something. We're in the middle of nowhere, desert surrounding us, so it shouldn't be too hard to spot something that stands out- Wait. I squint my eyes.

The road is blocked by two cars.

"Turn around!" I shout, and Tony slams down on the brakes. The cars are still far away, so we should be able to get away.

As Tony skids the car around, I reach for my heat. Just in case.

My heart starts pounding.

Tony revs the engine, and we're off again.

And that's when I see another car coming toward us.

Not only that, but it's close. We're boxed in.

"What the hell?" Nick shouts. "Drive, drive, drive!" Now we have two cars behind, and one in front of us. Shit. "Out there!" He points at nothing—the desert. "Make the turn!"

I grit my teeth, making sure my gun's loaded. It's been a while since I've used a gun, but that doesn't mean I don't know how it works. At one time, I had to make my bones, too.

Tony floors it, and we're not on the road anymore. "Fuck," he spits out. "_Non posso andare più veloce di così_!"

With guns ready, all we can do is bide our time.

This can't be it, can it?

Looking over my shoulder, I try to see the two cars closing in. Two, not three. I don't know why the third car stays behind. Correction: I try to see who's in them. But I can't get a good look, and when I see the cars parting, it doesn't matter who they are anymore. What matters is that they're catching up…and that they're trying to trap us.

Closer.

Closer.

Closer.

Panic sets in.

We're fucked.

The sound disappears. I no longer register the bumpy ground or Nick's and Tony's shouting.

It feels like everything is in slow motion as I turn to my left.

In that car, I see Felix and two men from his crew. I see my son's cold eyes.

Turning to the right, I see Junior, Alec, and Jasper.

Junior's smirking and holding up his piece.

**~oOo~**

**Junior's POV**

Translation:

Che peccato = What a pity

~oOo~

Just as I aim for the front tire, Tony raises his gun and pulls the trigger. Luckily, with the cars skidding, it's not easy for him to hit a damn target.

"Jasper, get the tires!" I bark out, and then I aim for Tony. "Fuck!" I miss the first shot, getting the windshield. But my second shot hits Tony in the neck. With him gone, I aim for Nick, who's firing at Felix's car.

"Felix!" I hear Carlisle scream. "Don't!"

"The front fucking tire, Junior!" Jasper shouts. "Alec—eyes on the road!"

Several shots ring out, and Nick almost gets me.

"Son of a bitch!" I yell, enraged, and then I fire again.

The car—our car—swerves.

"Finish it!" Alec shouts.

Another shot and Nick is dead.

I take a quick glance back to see that Carlisle has been shot. Good. Then I remember what Jasper said and fire off a few shots at the tire closest to me, which makes the middle car finally come to a stop.

My chest feels light.

Felix is the first one to get out of the cars, but I'm a quick second. Carlisle, who's been shot in the shoulder and neck, is coughing up blood in the backseat. I smile when I see his gun on the floor—out of reach for him.

"May I?" I ask Felix.

He purses his lips. "Jasper and Alec, too."

A minute later, the four of us point our guns to Carlisle's head and fire.

"That's that," Felix says. "At last—dead."

"_Che peccato_," I chuckle, wiping my forehead with my sleeve.

He grins in return.

"Should I go get the car?" Alec asks, referring to the third car we have, which is parked on the road…a couple miles away. Shit. I hate walking.

So, I nod. "Yeah—go get it."

The thought was for Mike and Petey to be here, too, but apparently Felix changed his mind. His half-brothers are gone, along with Joe. Chopped up. Out of mind. The past. My pops helped him early this morning.

_"All they wanted was my old man's approval. With Dad gone, I can't trust them," _Felix had told me. Instead he chose to bring Jimmy Buck—earned his nick because he'll do almost anything for a buck—and Marco from his crew.

No matter.

Popping the trunk of the Florida car, Jasper gives Felix a saccharine smile. "I'm sorry for your loss."

I snicker and shrug out of my jacket. This is fun and all, but we have a job to finish.

Once I've rolled up my sleeves, I get started with one of the Cubans. 'Cause the thing is, we only have about twenty minutes to be done and be gone. After that, the three pigs Felix has on his payroll will open up the road again. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that a lot of traffic has been stopped. But right now, unknowing people believe there's been an accident out here.

"Jimmy!" I jerk my chin at the other dead guy. "I want Cuban number two in the passenger seat."

He nods and gets to it, while Jasper pours gasoline on Carlisle's car.

"Fat fuck," I grunt and haul Cuban number one to the driver's seat. With Marco's help, we manage to get him behind the wheel, though. When all this is done, we'll have two Cubans in a car from Florida…and the car Carlisle rode in.

Everyone in our family—who isn't here—will think the people in Florida we have a minor issue with drove up here to ice Carlisle.

"We ready?" Felix asks as Alec pulls over in the third car.

I nod at Felix.

A few minutes later, we set the Florida car and Carlisle's car on fire. That will take care of any fingerprints we've left behind.

Then we pile in to the other two cars and drive away.

Time to book it.

We're splitting up. I will go to Jane, Felix will be with his wife, Pops is working, Jasper will help Isabella move back into our condo, and Alec's gonna hang out at our folks' home.

Now it's basically a waiting game.

Just waiting…to get that call saying that Carlisle Colucci has been killed.

**~oOo~**

When Felix has dropped me off at the big house, I sneak in without alerting Jane or Mrs. Coppoletta to my presence. The idea is to create an alibi, and I won't have that if I stomp in. So, as stealthily as possible, I make my way upstairs to the guest room I call mine.

I grab a quick shower, and then I do nothing.

I fall asleep on the bed. That's it.

And I'm woken a few hours later by Mrs. Coppoletta shaking me. "Edward, wake up."

I crack one eye open. "Hey," I yawn, actually eager to get back to sleep, though I know that won't happen. Not when I see the tears in her eyes.

I guess good news travel fast.

"When did you get home?" she asks, sniffling.

I sit up and rub the sleep outta my eyes. "Um, around noon?" I lie. Truth is that I came home around two or three. "Late night—went to bed as soon as I got here." I jerk my chin at her. "What is it?"

She wipes her cheeks and draws a shaky breath. "I just got off the phone with your mother." I raise a brow, playing stupid. "Carlisle's been murdered."

"No," I gasp, getting out of bed. I fist my hair. "You're kidding."

She shakes her head sadly. "Ed and Liz are on their way over to Esme." She frowns. "You really came home around noon?"

"Yeah." I nod and reach for my button-down. "I should go over there—God. He's dead? I…I can't believe it." I speak as I get dressed. "Have Felix or Dad said anything? Do they know…? What'd the police say?"

"I don't know—you should ask your father," she cries quietly. "Oh, poor Esme."

Poor Esme? I almost snort at that. She'll have it better now.

**~oOo~**

Carlisle's funeral six days later is an odd affair. It's business. The only ones truly grieving are Esme, Emmett, and Alice. My mother and my youngest sister—Victoria—are a little upset, too, though it's mostly for show. The rest of us pay our respects, but we know this is more about Felix's first appearance as the Colucci family's new boss.

I stand beside him as people from all over the country come to kiss Felix's cheeks and hand.

Pops is on the other side of Felix.

Jane's parents are here, too, and it's easy to see that Mr. Wilkins is more than a little uncomfortable. Obviously, he wants to make sure our business relationship is still intact, despite Carlisle's death. Not that he has anything to worry about. He helps us back East, and we pay him well for it. Why would we end that?

He should, however, worry about his daughter.

When I knocked on her door this morning, she didn't answer, and I went in and found her both drunk and hopped up on pills. She was wearing her swimsuit, and my guess is that Mrs. Coppoletta helped her up the stairs last night. That's all she—Jane—does these days, it seems. She stays by the pool, sometimes her friends come over, and then she passes out.

She will pass out tonight, too, but I'll be different this time, 'cause she won't wake up again.

"Edward," Mr. Wilkins says, coming up to me. "Again, I'm sorry for your loss. I'll see you tonight at your house."

I nod, knowing that I have to suffer through dinner with the in-laws before I, well, become a widower.

Mr. Wilkins moves on to Felix, and I'm itching to get home to my family.

I saw them yesterday; I go home as often as I can, but I haven't been able to spend the night in a while, which I loathe. And the baby is due any day now. But it will all be over soon. To pass time, I've been on the phone a lot with my Realtor, and I hope Isabella will be happy when I show her our new house.

**~oOo~**

Translation:

Wop, grease-ball = derogatory slang for Italians

~oOo~

"This is delicious," Mrs. Wilkins compliments with a careful smile.

Dinner is uncomfortable.

I, personally, don't give a shit, and it's obvious that my very drunk wife feels the same.

"I'll make sure to tell Carmen," I say, reaching for my wine glass. Mrs. Coppoletta left, conveniently, before dinner, because she's been spending a lot of time with Esme and my mother the past week.

"Edward wanted me to cook when we first got married," Jane giggles, swaying in her seat. "I guess that's what you become when you ma-arry a wop—a chef. Not that he succeeded with _me_." She looks proud. "Grease-balls, the bunch of 'em."

I clench my jaw and let go of my glass, for fear that I'd crush it. Leaning forward and placing my elbows on the table, I stare at her silently.

She's lost her fucking mind if she thinks she can disrespect me this way.

"Jane, go upstairs." I jerk my chin in the direction of the stairs. "Now."

With everything up in the air—with Carlisle being dead—Mr. Wilkins doesn't have the balls to defend his daughter.

"But we're having dinner-er," she slurs, smiling sweetly.

It feels like the vein in my forehead is about to pop.

"We should—we should go back to the hotel," Mr. Wilkins decides, hesitantly standing up. "Thank you for dinner. Jane, we'll see you for lunch—tomorrow."

I remain seated and keep my cold gaze on Jane.

With a huff, she leaves the table and stomps away.

As soon as the Wilkins are gone, I throw down my napkin on the table and follow Jane.

**~oOo~**

Upon entering Jane's bedroom, I see her sitting on the bed. I also see a bottle of vodka on the nightstand.

"Wanna make love to your wife?" she asks with a sarcastic smile.

I grin and walk toward and slowly. "No, I'm good." I slip a hand under her pillow. She thinks I'm stupid—that I don't know where she hides that shit. She probably also don't know that I'm fully aware of who her provider is—Felix's wife, Gianna. She happens to be a pillhead, too, though she knows her boundaries.

"Gimme those!" She huffs and holds out her hand. I raise a brow, wishing I could beat the shit outta her, but that would leave marks. "They're for my migraine."

I chuckle. "I'm sure."

Christ, she looks horrible. While I've never been attracted to her, there was still some sense of…I don't know, but she at least she wasn't ugly before. Now I doubt a blind man would fuck her. Her cheeks have hollowed, her eyes look sunken in, her skin is dry in some places and full of blemishes in others. She's lost more weight—and Jane was always skinny.

"Give them to me!" she screams, and then she jumps up. Unfortunately, with how drunk she is, she only stumbles back onto the bed. "I hate you, Edward!" She keeps screaming, and I know that this is it. When she successfully gets off the bed and tries to reach for the pill bottle, I push her back forcefully. "Stop!"

I let out a humorless laugh as join her on the bed. She tries to claw at me, slap me, fight me off, but her movements are way too slow.

"You never just obey, do you?" I grit out, grasping her left wrist as she swings at me. Then she tries with her right hand, and I grasp that one, too. "You couldn't just keep your mouth shut—you had to go to Esme." I grip both her hands together with one of mine, and my free hand goes to her jaw. I squeeze hard.

"S-stop!" she whimpers. "It hurts!"

I grin and look up the bed, spotting a pillow, then look back to Jane again. "You know, if you'd only behaved, I would've let you go." That's probably the truth, too. I fucking told her from the beginning that our marriage was business. All she had to do was keep her mouth shut and play along. She had friends, she could go shopping whenever she wanted, she had a nice house, my family treated her with respect…

But all that wasn't enough, was it?

Reaching for the pillow, realization dawns on Jane.

Her eyes go wide in horror. "Ed-dward," she splutters and chokes. "What—what, no!"

"Look at it this way," I grunt. "You'll never see me again." There's not an ounce of remorse in me—my heart is reserved for only my immediate family—but I don't need a heart to know that Jane is innocent here. Well, aside from disrespecting me and talking back.

Regardless, there's probably a place in heaven for Jane.

For me? Not so much.

That's why I want to make the most of my life on earth.

With that thought, I press down the pillow over her face.

I hear her muffled screams, and I feel her body squirming, her legs kicking, but her attempts are futile.

Soon enough, she goes limp.

I check her pulse, satisfied when I feel nothing.

Afterward, I throw the vodka bottle on the bed, followed by more pill bottles. I also make sure Jane's fingers are the last to touch the stuff.

It's a clear case of suicide, and with my being her husband, I'll make sure there won't be an autopsy.

Locating the camera downstairs, I run up again and snap off a few shots.

Then it's done.

As I leave Jane's room, the phone rings, and it's ironic, because it's Felix who calls to tell me that Jasper just took Isabella to the hospital.

My hummingbird is in labor.

One life ends and another begins…

**~oOo~**

Translation:

Mi hai aspettato? = You waited for me?

~oOo~

Before I open the door to Isabella's hospital room, I take a moment to just watch them through the little window in the door. Them…Isabella, Anthony, Elisa…they're all on the bed, and Isabella's holding a small bundle in her arms. My vision blurs. Jasper, he's standing to the side with the camera I bought for Isabella last Christmas. And I swear to myself that this is the last time I miss the birth of one of my children. In my defense, this is also the first time I missed it, but it's still one too many.

Drawing a shaky breath, I finally push the door open.

"Daddy!" Anthony grins widely and waves for me to come closer, whereas Elisa jumps down and runs toward me.

"Mama's got new baby!" she squeals. I laugh as I pick her up, and then I drop noisy and sloppy smooches on her face. "C'mon!" she giggles. "See the new baby—what'sa mattuh, Daddy?" She tilts her head and touches my cheek. "You sad?"

I chuckle and sniffle. "No—God—_angioletto mio_, I'm so happy." Walking over to Isabella's bed, I dip down and kiss her deeply. "I'm sorry I missed it," I choke out against her lips. I take a breath. "_Ti amo_. Fuck, how I love you."

"Don't worry about it," she croaks. She looks both happy and exhausted—something I remember from her previous births. Her eyes are glistening, her smile is wide, but she's so drained. "I love you—you're here now. And you were right." That said, she looks down, and I do the same. "You said it was a boy."

I grin and blink back tears as I gaze at my newborn son. In the meantime, Elisa squirms out of my embrace and cuddles up on the bed against Isabella's leg.

"Mama wouldn't say his name 'til you gots here," Anthony whines.

"Really?" I look at Isabella and kiss her lips again. "_Mi hai aspettato_?"

She nods, smiling widely. "Of course. So…will you do the honors?" She holds up the bundle for me. "Jasper's also curious."

I hear Jasper chuckle behind me.

"Christ," I breathe out, holding my newborn for the first time. "I love you so much, baby." Curiosity gets the best of me, so I lift the little cap he's wearing, and I smile so wide when I see the dark brown tuffs of hair.

"Christ?" Anthony asks. "Um, Daddy…that's Jesus' last name."

I look at him, momentarily speechless, and then I break down in laughter.

Jasper and Isabella do, too, and unfortunately this wakes up the little one in my arms. But it definitely doesn't erase any happiness. Hell, I feel drunk on happy.

"Oh, _topolino_," Isabella whimpers through giggles, and Anthony crawls over to her.

"Be careful," I tell him softly. I'm not really excited about having both Elisa and Anthony on the bed—not when Isabella's so fragile—but…I know there's no arguing about that right now.

"The name?" Jasper asks.

"Right." I nod and look down at my youngest again. He's asleep, but when I touch his hand, he still grips my finger. It feels…sensational, phenomenal, indescribable…

"Dominic Edward Maisano."

Isabella decided Anthony's middle name—Jasper—as well as Elisa's middle name—Renee. And I told her she could pick Dominic's first name, but she just shook her head and said it was my job, my honor. So, she picked the middle name for this one, too.

Dominic was my grandfather's name.

"S'hard to say, Daddy," Elisa complains.

I lift my head and wink at my baby girl. "Then you gotta practice, huh?"

She huffs and pouts.

God, I love my family.

**~oOo~**

Since Jasper left Nico and Lucia with a babysitter, he leaves pretty early, but that's fine with me. And once he's gone, it doesn't take more than a few minutes for Anthony and Elisa to fall asleep. Then it's just Isabella and me who are awake. Dominic just fell asleep, though we know he'll wake up soon enough again.

Sitting in the chair next to the bed, I hold my sleeping newborn in my arms.

"He looks like you," I muse quietly. Just like Elisa, Dominic has inherited many of Isabella's features. "So beautiful."

"Who will we ask to be his godmother?" she whispers in return.

I sigh, having no idea. Felix and Heidi are godparents to Anthony, and Jasper and one of Isabella's friends—Sandy—are godparents to Elisa. The thought was for Felix and Heidi to be godparents to Dominic, too, but…

"I've gotten pretty close with Angela," she offers softly.

Unfortunately, I have to shake my head no at that one. If I get my way, which I tend to do, Isabella will soon be my wife. She can't socialize with goomahs any more then. I don't want that.

"What about Alice?" I suggest. "She's dying to meet you again—and the children."

She smiles gently and nods minutely. "I'm up for a few changes, aren't I?"

My own smile is both rueful and wistful. "Does that mean you'll agree to be my wife?"

"Will you ever wear your wedding band?"

_Again with the dodging._

"I will _always_ wear my-"

She cuts me off. "Not that one. Your current one. Will you wear it again?"

Oh. No, I won't- Well… I will have to wear it at the funeral. "Is that it?" I tilt my head at her. "Once there's nothing in the way…" She shrugs and nods then averts her eyes. I nod, too. "A week, then." Her eyes find mine again, and I give her a wry grin. "She's dead."

"What?" she gasps.

I look down at Dominic. "She killed herself. After her funeral, I hope you'll say yes to my proposal."

"It'll be your first one," she points out dryly. I narrow my eyes at her, and now it's her turn to grin wryly. "You haven't exactly proposed, Juniuh. You've said, told, assumed, hoped… You haven't asked me."

_Touché._

"And don't bullshit me," she continues. "Your wife just happened to kill herself? Please." She rolls her eyes. "First Cawlisle and now your wife…"

"Watch that mouth, Isabella," I warn quietly. I love her beyond words and I'd give her the world if I could, but she won't be talking back at me. I admit that I have a soft spot for Isabella's fire. I love how strong and passionate she is, but there are limits.

Speaking of fire…

"No, _Edward_, you listen to _me_ now." She points at her chest. "You want me to be your wife? Here are my demands."

**~oOo~**

Translation:

_Signora Savona...ti amo così tanto—tu e la tua bocca. __Il tuo cuore, la tua mente_ = Ms. Savona…I love you so much—you and your mouth. Your heart, your mind, everything

_Adulatore_ = Smooth talker

~oOo~

I'm amused, stupid in love, and angry when she basically tells me to shut up.

But I don't want to fight her right now, so I just nod my consent.

She takes a breath. "I realize that I can't demand fidelity, although it is what I need—"

"I only want _you_, hummingbird!" I'm not mad at her—I'm pleading for her to believe me. "Please, baby…" I sigh. "I want you to _trust_ me."

She stares at me. "May I continue now?"

I stifle a growl. "By all means…"

"First of all—" she holds up a finger "—trust comes with time. Second, I want a real proposal." She smirks, which lightens the tension a little. I manage a small smile, but for some reason I'm nervous. "Third, don't _eva'_ lie to me." She wags a finger at me, and her eyes are once more full of fire.

I suck my teeth.

_Lying sort of comes with the job description, sweetheart._

"If you can't tell me the truth, don't say anything at all," she says with a firm nod. _That_ I can agree to, and I find myself exhaling in relief. "I am not stupid, Junior, and I was not born yesterday. I know who you are and who your 'family' is, okay?" I raise my brow, neither denying nor confirming. It's all I will offer. At least 'til we're married. "Okay, I've lost count on my—no matta'." She waves it off. "I won't ask about your job, I will take care of the children, I will cook, clean, cherish you, love you… I will respect you, _ciccino_, but I expect you to treat me with respect, too. No lying, no deceiving—I deserve better than that." She pokes her chest. "A happy wife means a happy household, _capisce_?" She twirls her finger in a circle. "What goes around comes around."

By now, I'm just grinning like a lunatic.

My little ball-buster.

Picking up her hand, I kiss the top of it. "_Signora Savona...ti amo così tanto—tu e la tua bocca. __Il tuo cuore, la tua mente."_

"_Adulatore_," she responds with narrowed eyes. She's trying to remain serious, but I see her mouth twitching. "Do you agree to my terms?"

I withhold my chuckle, because what I'm about to say is serious and truthful.

"I agree, Isabella."

**~oOo~**

Translation:

Ai ragazzi piacerà da impazzire! = The kids will love this like crazy!

~oOo~

Jane's funeral is my last charade.

Her parents are devastated, but I don't give a fuck. Felix is quick to whisk Mr. Wilkins away afterward, and I know he's showing him the pictures I took of his daughter—pictures I'm sure the mighty politician doesn't want to become public. It doesn't matter if Wilkins doesn't believe Jane committed suicide—as long as we have something against him. And we do. Our relationship will remain intact; we will have protection in New York if any of our friends get pinched, and Mr. Wilkins will get his money. Now, _that's_ business. Without a fucking marriage. I'm sure we'd be able to press it further and deny him money—what with us having those disgraceful photos of his dead daughter and all—but that'd be too much. We need him to be satisfied, to _want_ this relationship. If he doesn't, he could get sloppy.

~oOo~

A few weeks later, when Isabella is comfortable enough to leave Dominic behind for a few hours, we let Brianna watch our kids. Then I take my hummingbird out on the town. Dinner and a show—Frank Sinatra, is all I'm saying—and at the end of the night, I give Isabella the proposal and the ring she deserves.

I promise to be faithful, to respect her, to love her, and to cherish her.

She finally gives me her yes. Many times over, actually.

At last.

And I don't waste time. The day after that, I show her our new house.

"Oh, my goodness, Juniuh!" She throws herself at me. "When can we move in—gah! There's a pool!" She starts peppering my face with kisses, making me laugh. "_Ai ragazzi piacerà da impazzire_!"

And later that night, I introduce my fiancée and children to my parents, my cousins, Esme, and Carmen. Felix, Alec, Emmett, and Brianna—even Pops and Alice, really—are no strangers to Isabella, but the rest… Mom, Esme, and Rosalie are a bit guarded, which I expected. Carmen is happy for me, as are the rest, and everyone treats Isabella and our children with respect. It doesn't matter what past we have—I demand that they make my future wife feel welcomed.

Truth be told, my mother and Esme relax pretty quickly. Because the drama Felix brought to dinner turned out to be bigger. Yeah, he has Francis with him…and his wife…and his legitimate children.

It's not my business, so I make sure not to get involved, but it's clear that my mother and Esme disapprove. Not to mention Gianna—she's seething. Which I can understand, of course. Felix is basically throwing his affair with Heidi in Gianna's face. But then…Francis is just a small child. He needs a family, and Felix wants to include him. Again, I get it.

But I thank God it's not my business.

"So, when are you two getting married?" Alice asks us when dessert is served.

I smirk and place my arm on the back of Isabella's chair. "As soon as possible."

"My brother will be there," Isabella adds with a sly wink.

My cousin blushes.

I laugh.

Felix has already given Jasper the green light, so…

"I'd say that a toast is in order," Pops declares with a wide smile. "To Junior and Isabella!"

Raising my glass, I dip down and kiss my hummingbird.

"Salute!"


	10. Chapter 10

**Special thanks to Lisa, Lexi, Francesca, and Kitty :)**

* * *

**Grand Tale  
**

**Epilogue**

Translation:

_Ah, mi stai facendo diventare matta!_ = Ah, you're driving me crazy!

_Questa è tutta colpa di tuo zio Jasper_. = This is your uncle Jasper's fault.

_Mannaggia a quel bastardo—mannaggia a me!_ = I curse that bastard—I curse myself!

_Dannazione, mi sei mancata oggi_. = Damn, I've missed you today.

_Chi diavolo osa interrompermi mentre sto per scoparmi mia moglie?_ = Who the hell dares interrupt me from fucking my wife?

_Come ti pare, come ti pare_. = Whatever you say, whatever you say.

**December 1990**

**Junior's POV  
**

"_You remember our friend in Buffalo—the guy who likes to sing?" _Felix asks over the phone.

Looking up, I make sure the door to my study is closed. "Yeah, I remember," I chuckle, scratching my eyebrow. I'm glad this two-bit fucker has been found. The guy gave us a tip that happened to lead straight to the fucking Feds. Goddamn rat. Luckily, our guys got off scot-free.

_Buffalo_, I write down on a notepad.

"_Yeah, I was thinking you could take him to dinner this Tuesday—show him around a little."_

I nod to myself, knowing that dinner is our word for disappear.

"Got it," I say. "And what abou—" I'm cut off there by the doorbell. "Shit, hold on a second." I'm about to call out for Isabella, but then I remember it's Saturday and she's at her restaurant 'til four. And we don't let the kids open the door by themselves. "Hey, Felix, Isabella's not home. Can I call you back?"

"_Sounds good."_ He disconnects the call, and I leave my study.

About six years ago, I handed over Dawn to Jasper. It was around the same time Felix made him a capo. My brother-in-law got his own crew and his own place. It was my idea to give him Dawn, 'cause I wanted to try something new, which my hummingbird was the inspiration for. Her fucking cooking! _Madonna mia_. So, now Isabella has her own restaurant. Okay, not really, but almost. Since it's a front for illegal activity, the business is in my name, but I named it with her in mind and the chef follows her orders. They're my wife's recipes. She goes down there twice a week—once a week to talk to the chef about the menu and once to sample the food.

She's my star, hence naming the place _Stella Mia_.

Anyway…she's talking to the chef now, so that's why she's not home.

As far as I know, only Julia and Dominic are home. My two youngest, God bless them, love to bust my fucking balls. Dominic, who'll be ten in a couple of weeks, is such a smartass. He's testing my limits, checking to see what he can get away with. Anthony was the same way at that age. And Julia, my little princess who just turned eight a few months ago…she's dangerous. She has this dimpled smile and innocent eyes, but she's as wicked as her mother, that one.

I never thought having girls would be that difficult. Hell, it wasn't difficult until Julia came along. 'Cause Elisa's an angel. She's gonna become a doctor or something one day, mark my words.

Now, the boys…I can handle those. The girls? Forget about it. I ground them, I threaten them, I send them to their rooms, but one smile and I'm dead. Thank God Isabella's immune to that shit.

I shake my head, clearing it, and open the door.

I sigh.

It's Officer Crowley; he's on the books, so I'm not worried, but it's getting annoying.

"What did he do this time?" I ask, eyeing my oldest who stands next to Crowley.

"Caught him as he attacked a Cadillac with a crowbar," Tyler tells me, chuckling. I shake my head at Anthony. Since I'm only wearing a tank and sleep pants, I don't have my wallet here. "He was with Nicola and Francis—drove them home before I came here. I had to bring Nicola in, though—he's twenty…"

I nod as Crowley uncuffs my son. "Gimme a minute—I'll be right back." With that said, I head back to my study, open the safe, and pull out a wad of cash. Then I return to the hallway, and I smirk when I see Anthony massaging his wrists.

_Thinks he's so tough._

"Wait for me in the kitchen," I tell him and wait 'til he's gone. Then I slip Crowley some cash. "Thanks for not taking him in." He never does, which reminds me… "Next time, though? Let him see the inside of a holding cell before you call me—scare him a little bit."

He knows not to call Isabella. My wife would have a heart attack if one of her precious boys fucked up so badly that they got "arrested". Instead, Crowley calls the line in my study whenever Anthony's in trouble. And had Isabella opened the door right now, Tyler would've come up with some bullshit story about breaking up a fight and then giving Anthony a ride home. He saves the truth for me.

He grins. "You got it. Have a good day, Maisano."

"You, too." I close the door and head for the kitchen, where I find Anthony waiting. He's not jittery or anxious anymore when he has fucked up—he just waits and takes it.

"It's my day off, you know," I mutter and reach for the smokes next to the coffeemaker. "And then I gotta deal with this shit from you?" I light up a cigarette and lean back against the counter. "All right, lay it on me—tell me what happened."

He finally looks up. "Nico told me not to tell."

"I don't give a _fuck_ about what your cousin told you," I chuckle. I point to my chest. "You obey _me_, so spill it already." And Nicola? He fucking knows better than to run with Anthony and Francis. They're fourteen years old—Nico's twenty. I get that my son looks up to his cousin, but if mentioned cousin wants to make it someday, he better stop hanging around with kids. He should be here, kissing my ass.

"Fine—this car…it belongs to some fucko who's stalking Lucia," Anthony tells me, speaking with his hands. "She doesn't want anything to do with this guy, so Francis and I offered to tag along when Nico said he wanted to pay this guy a visit." He shrugs. "Went over to the arcade where this guy usually hangs out…"

I look out the window, and then back to Anthony with an incredulous expression on my face. "In broad daylight?" I widen my arms. "What the fuck is the matta' wit'chu?!" I shout. "Huh? What's the matta' wit'chu? Think about it." I tap my temple.

I'd go to hell and back for my kids, but Anthony knows the neighborhood cops hang out around the arcade after school hours and on weekends. It's petty bullshit, but it is what it is, and I can't believe Anthony agreed to do this. Or Nicola, for that matter. But I guess Nico acted with anger fueling him, which means he has a lot to learn. You gotta think before you act, dammit.

"Nothing happened!" he argues. "We got away, didn't we?"

"OH!" I shout, slamming down my fist on the counter. "Don't raise your goddamn voice at me, _capisce_?"

"Sorry," he mumbles. "But it's true; we did get away."

I take a drag before answering. "You got away because _I_ pay the police." I shake my head, disappointed. "What if your mother found out? You'd break her fucking heart."

The Isabella card always works, and Anthony looks away, ashamed.

"Listen, _tesoro_," I say, calm now, and lean forward to rest my elbows on the kitchen island. "You can't keep doing this shit. I get that you wanted to protect Lucia—defend her—but you gotta use your head. These things you've been doing… Stealing, fighting, gambling, smoking…" I straighten up and flick some ash in the sink. To be honest, I don't know what to tell him. I did the same thing when I was a kid—that was how I started, how most of us started.

Anthony's insanely smart, like, his IQ…it's high. He gets good grades and he treats his mother and sisters well, but he's also too naïve. He counts on me to bail him out, which I won't be able to do forever. Neighborhood cops are one thing—that's nothing—but what happens when he gets older and acts irrationally and gets pinched for real? There's no guarantee I can help him then.

I don't feel comfortable taking him under my own wing, either, just like Jasper doesn't want to deal with Nicola. Nico has made shit clear—he wants in—but Jasper refuses to do it himself. So, Nico has done some shit for me, and some for my brother.

"You should get a job," I say, thinking out loud. His head snaps up. "On the weekends or over breaks—something like that. Christmas break's coming up soon. When I was your age, I worked in my nonno's grocery store." I nod, liking this idea more and more. "Start at the bottom, and then when you got some scratch, I'll help you turn it into more."

"What do you think I should do?" he asks.

I smile and take a last pull before putting out the smoke in the sink. Then I walk around the kitchen island and sit down on a stool next to my boy. "You can help out at your mother's restaurant." I laugh and ruffle his hair. "Starting at the bottom? Be a busboy. I don't fucking know, but I wanna get you off the damn streets. There are better ways to make money than hustling like some mamaluke. Or you can help Zio Alec in his shop. Eh? All the cold cuts you can eat." I wink.

Honestly, I was a little surprised when Alec opened a deli last year, but he's damn good at it. He still has his club, but he keeps his drug business in the basement of the deli now.

"I think Mom's restaurant is better." Anthony snickers. "Hey, I can help her sample the food!"

I laugh through my nose. "First of all, you do that every night at dinner. Second, sampling ain't what I'd call a job."

I wanna start over with him, help him use his brain. He's too good for the streets. Now, street smarts—you need that…but he can wait a little longer. And in the meantime, I can help him move up with the money he earns legitimately.

"All right. How do you make _your_ money, Pops?" he asks with a glint in his eye.

I smirk and playfully punch him in the chin. "I'm a businessman—you know that."

He snorts. "Right. The word on the street is that you—"

I smack the back of his head. "Fuck the word on the street, you hear me?" I point a finger at him. "Fuck the street, period."

He nods. "Yes, sir."

"Good." I give him a smooch on the forehead. "Your mother will be home any minute to start dinner—go wash up." He nods again and gets up from his seat. "I love you, son. You know that, right?"

He grins. "You too, Pops."

"Ah, get outta hea'." I chuckle and wave him off. Kid thinks he's too cool to say those three words nowadays. But as long as he says them to Isabella, it's all good.

Alone in the kitchen, I pour a glass of wine and decide to enjoy the silence for a while—

"_DADDY!"_

I spoke too soon.

_Julia._

My shoulders slump. "So much for silence." I take a sip of my wine then put the glass down. "What?" I shout back. Our house is big, but our mouths are bigger. The kids all have their bedrooms upstairs, along with a rec room and two bathrooms—one for Elisa and Julia, one for Anthony and Dominic—and then everything else down here. Kitchen, living room, dining room, Isabella and my bedroom, my study, laundry room, one guest room, and two more baths. I fucking love our house. Then we have a big pool in the back, a large patio, and plenty of space for the dogs to run. We don't have old Tito anymore, but we have Lucy—oh yeah, that name stuck, regardless of how many boy names I suggested. We also have a Doberman that Dominic named Duke, and a French Bulldog that Isabella and Julia named Duchess.

Fucking circus around here.

Gotta love it, though.

"_DADDYYY!"_

"Jesus Christ," I groan under my breath. "What is it, Julia?!" I shout. "Got something to say, come down here!"

And soon I hear _stomp, stomp, stomp, stomp_ as she, well, stomps down the stairs.

Sometimes I wonder how my hummingbird deals with this every day without losing her fucking mind, but I'm thankful she does deal with it.

"Oh, Daddy, you gotta hear this!" Julia exclaims, storming into the kitchen.

Fuck, she's too cute for words. Now, the day she was born? Jesus and his mother…what a day that was. It was almost worse than that fire at the Grand ten years ago. Isabella lost blood…a lot of it—she couldn't breathe—and it was touch and go for a while. I still thank God every day she made it—that they _both_ made it. I wasn't even upset she couldn't have more children after that. We're so blessed to have our four babies, and I don't take shit for granted. Ever. And hey, four's a perfect number in my book.

"What do I gotta hear, _principessa_?" I laugh. She tugs on my hand and waves me down, so I squat to be at her level. "_Che cosa_?"

Did she punch another teacher? Nah, we would've heard from school. Last year when she nut-punched a priest, I thought I was gonna piss my pants laughing. But on the outside, I was a strict father…until we came home and Isabella had to take over. That was the last of Catholic school for Julia.

"Listen," she whispers in my ear. "I found your beer in Dominic's room."

"Oh, for the love of all that is holy," I whine and stand up again.

When the fuck is Isabella coming? She was supposed to be here by now.

"Should I not have told you, Daddy?" she asks sweetly.

I'm torn. Yes, no, yes, maybe, I don't fucking know.

I sigh.

"Yeah, you should've—you did good." I squat down again. "Gimme a kiss." I pucker my lips.

She giggles and gives a kiss, and then she runs off again.

"Don't tell Mama, Julia—when she gets home!" I holler.

"I won't!" she shouts back, long gone.

"And tell Dominic to get his ass down here!"

"Okay!"

_Madonn'_. I'm glad we don't have any problems with Elisa.

**Hummingbird's POV  
**

"And don't forget," I say as I put on my coat. It's mink. Junior gave it to me last month—sweet, sweet man. "Sugar in the sauce—works wonders. Just like salt does when you bake a cake."

"You got it."

"And not too much garlic." I pick up my purse, spotting Elisa by the hostess' booth. "All right." I sigh and smile at my chef. "Have a good night, Enzo."

He smiles back. "You too, hon."

With that, I leave the kitchen, and my red heels make clicking noises as I walk through the empty restaurant.

"You're in trouble again, aren't you?" I ask, reaching my daughter.

She's too much like me, this one. She's a girl, a lady, in the company of family, but when she's with her friends? Forget about it. Junior thinks she's heaven on earth. She's not.

Her favorite pastime is to gamble with the boys at her school. They think, since she's a girl, that she doesn't know shit. It's basically their downfall, 'cause Elisa knew poker before Go Fish. Doesn't matter that she's only twelve—well, she will be thirteen next week. Dice, cards, no matter, she's all for it.

And…sometimes when she has robbed the poor kids of their lunch money or their allowances, they get pissed and Elisa runs over to _Stella Mia_ to hide out for a little bit. I'm pretty sure either Anthony or Francis helps her if she needs it. God knows she doesn't take it to her parents. I should know…since I'm one of them.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Mom." She winks.

I chuckle and kiss her cheek. "Okay, let's go home. We're already late."

Outside, we wait for Sal—my driver—to arrive. My husband and the rest of the men have had some trouble lately, so all the wives have drivers for now. Which reminds me…

"Where's Joseph, sweetheart?" Joseph is Felix's oldest, and he's Elisa's shadow.

"I got rid of him." She shrugs. "He's probably still at the mall."

I shake my head. "What if your father knew this side of you, huh? You'd break his heart."

"But you won't tell, Mom." She smiles sweetly and links arms with me. Damn girl is only a couple inches shorter than me. Though, in heels I have a few extra on her. The same does not apply to Anthony. He grew taller than me when he was twelve. "It's best he doesn't find out."

"You wanna talk what's best?" I face her. "What's best is that you stop this crap. Focus on school—do your father proud."

She stares at me. "I won four hundred bucks today."

"No!" My eyes widen.

Elisa nods with a giddy smile. "Some guys at the mall were taking bets on—"

"_Ah, mi stai facendo diventare matta_!" I palm my forehead. Oh God, I'm a horrible mother. Is that shit in the blood or something? If I did something like this growing up, does that mean my kids are gonna do the same? "_Questa è tutta colpa di tuo zio Jasper_," I hiss and point a finger at her. "_Mannaggia a quel bastardo—mannaggia a me!_"

"Mom—_Mom_." She grasps my arms. "Calm down."

I'm shaking with anger as Sal pulls up, and I end up dragging Elisa with me and into the car.

"I should never have kept this from Juniuh," I mutter to myself. "Elisa, _mia bella bambina_—" I cup her cheeks "—I have to tell your father."

"No, Mom!" she pleads, and my God, she looks just like I did at that age. It was the age I knew nothing, the age I thought it was so cool when Jasper taught me funny tricks. "Don't tell him!"

I release a heavy breath and slump back in my seat. "I thought Anthony—or even Dominic—were gonna cause problems, and…" I laugh without humor. "Then it turns out that you—Daddy's angel—do this." Anthony doesn't wear a halo, but at least he's not doing anything illegal. He acts older than his age, but I blame Joseph, Nicola, and Emmett Junior for that. Those three are in their twenties; Anthony and Francis look up to them.

"Okay," Elisa laughs quietly, "whatever helps you sleep at night."

I narrow my eyes at her. "What's that suppos'ta mean?"

"Nothing."

~oOo~

As soon as I open the door to our house, I call out for Junior. "_Ciccino_! I'm home!"

It's awfully quiet. Not a good sign.

"You need any help with dinner?" Elisa asks.

I shake my head and smile. "No, thank you." I shrug out of my coat. "Go check on your brothers and sister, all right?"

"Sure thing." And she's gone.

But she doesn't go far, because I hear her around the corner. With Junior.

"Oh hey, Daddy."

"_Angioletto mio_, how are you today?" I hear Junior ask just as I round the corner, too. He's cupping her cheeks, a wide smile on his face.

"Good. How are you?" She's so polite now.

"_Bene, bene_." Junior kisses her cheeks then looks up to see me here. His smile widens further. Oh, how I adore this man. He speaks to Elisa, though his eyes remain glued to mine. "_Angioletto_, go upstairs to Julia. She wants to talk to you." And Elisa walks away. "You're late," he tells me with a glare. But I know he's only teasing. He has his tells.

I suck my teeth.

He advances slowly. "It's half past four. You said you'd be home at four."

I fold my arms over my chest and cock a brow.

Another step or two. "You should've started dinner by now. We always eat early on Saturdays."

_Gah, I love playing with him like this!_

Despite being thirty-eight, it's like his soul has gotten younger with the years. He's more carefree and casual nowadays. Always looking proper and lethal outside the house, of course, but at home he's a husband and a father. Not a…whatever he is for Felix.

"Oh, yeah? Whatta'ya gonna do aboudit?" I jut my chin.

He smirks just as he reaches me. "Hmm, I don't know." He nuzzles my jaw, 'causing a shiver to run through me. "But I do know that I'll be extra hungry later, so…" He drops a soft kiss below my ear. "Maybe I need a serving of your pussy tonight."

"Jesus," I breathe out, and then his mouth covers mine.

Kissing me deeply and hungrily, he backs me into a wall and lets his hands roam my body. He's rough and greedy, yet there's something in his touch that makes me feel…I don't know…but it's as if he thinks I'm fragile. Which I'm certainly not, and God knows Junior's capable of fucking me into oblivion. All over the house.

"_Dannazione, mi sei mancata oggi_," he moans into my mouth as he palms my breasts. He pushes them together and kisses his way down to them. "_Ti amo, bell'uccellino_."

"Please, _ciccino_," I whimper and tilt my head back. "Your office."

He grunts. "Fuck, yes—"

And then we're interrupted by the doorbell.

"_Cazzo_!" he curses.

I place a hand over my heaving chest, my breaths coming out in pants.

"_Chi diavolo osa interrompermi mentre sto per scoparmi mia moglie?_" he mutters, and I use my thumb to erase any lipstick around his mouth. It earns me a wink before he heads for the door. He gives me a chin-nod before he opens it. "Straighten your clothes, hummingbird."

I nod and turn to the mirror, making sure to fix my hair, as well. Junior opens the door, but I'm partly hidden behind is, so I take the opportunity to reapply my lipstick, too.

"What the fuck do you want?" he asks…whoever.

After fluffing my hair a little more, I join Junior and see that it's Joseph and Emmett Junior.

"Hey, boys!" I smile. "Don't you two look dapper." I'm glad they've taken their fathers' advice and started wearing suits. Gianna, Alice, Brianna, and I went shopping for them a few weeks back. I was out buying Junior a few new silk suits anyway, so I offered to help out with these two, as well as Nicola.

"Hello, Mrs. Maisano," they both say, at which I snicker. Around my husband, they're kissing ass. When the man next to me isn't close by, though, I'm Bella.

"Yeah, yeah, what do ya want?" Junior asks impatiently. "And, EJ? Stop staring at my wife. You got a death wish?"

I refrain from rolling my eyes. The hubby doesn't appreciate eye-rolls.

He always thinks someone's staring at me, the crazy man.

"I-I wasn't—" Emmett Junior starts to stutter, but Joseph cuts him off.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Maisano, but we're just here to make sure Elisa got home-"

My turn to cut him off. "She's fine," I assure him. I don't want him to say another word, 'cause then Junior will find out that our soon-to-be thirteen-year-old daughter shook off her security. It will earn Joseph a beating from my husband, and Elisa will get grounded. I'll probably ground her no matter what, but she's Junior's angel; I want her to remain that way. "I picked her up," I add, lying. "Sal and I did—she was safe the whole time—so…" I nod. "I should really get started on dinner, boys, but thanks for stopping by. Tell Rosalie and Gianna I said hi."

With that out of the way, I make my way to the kitchen.

Approximately five minutes later, Junior comes into the kitchen while I'm preparing the stuffing for the ravioli.

"How's your Saturday so far, _ciccino_?" I ask as I start chopping the spinach.

"Um, good." He pours us some wine. "Julia woke me up at nine, and I woke up Dominic. We had breakfast—the waffles you left us." He smiles and snatches up an olive. "And then I had some calls to take care of…" He pauses to take a sip of his wine, and I reach for the sundried tomatoes. "We took out the dogs for a little bit…we had lunch—the leftovers from Thursday… That's pretty much it." In my periphery, I see him shrugging a little. "Lazy day."

I grin. "Hence the sleepwear at four thirty in the afternoon?"

"Hey, this is the latest fashion," he teases.

"_Come ti pare, come ti pare_," I chuckle.

"So, uh, listen…" He clears his throat; the humor is gone. And I have a feeling he's going to bring up work. "I have to go on a business trip soon. It's just two days, though…"

I nod slowly, focusing on the stuffing. I never ask what he does on these trips, but I'm not blind. It comes and goes, but some things are constant. Safes full of cash, guns in the house, "emergency" meetings, secrecy, speaking in code over the phone, and don't ask me how many times I've heard the sentence, "It fell off a truck" coming from my husband. And then there have been a few times when bigger things have gone down. Twice, the Feds have shown up to search the house, and four times, Junior has sent us on vacation in the Bahamas…for instance. Now, a vacation sounds good, but not when you know it's because someone's out to get you. Or your husband.

Not only is Junior in the mafia, but he ranks pretty high, too.

I grew up around this, though, so I'm used to it. I know about made men, associates, soldiers, capos, "friends of _ours_"…all that crap. And our kids aren't stupid, either. Or at least our oldest. 'Cause earlier this year when the movie _GoodFellas_ came out, Anthony suddenly had a million questions for his father.

Fun day for Junior.

_That was sarcasm._

But I take my vows seriously, both the ones I took when we got married, and the ones I told Junior in order for me to agree to be his wife. I don't ask questions, I don't get involved, I don't snoop around. And in return, Junior shows his gratitude. He trusts me with his life, he shows me his appreciation, and he's home whenever he can be. This is where he wants to be, and he both shows it and says it. Granted, he tells me a few things sometimes, but not a lot, and I'm fine with that.

I trust him.

But that doesn't mean I don't worry. Hell, I've cried myself to sleep countless times over the years. I'm worried sick each time he goes out of town on "business". I'm worried that he won't come back…or that he does, but with a fucking tag on his toe.

"May I ask where you'll be?" I ask softly, quietly, holding my breath.

He cups my cheek and makes me face him. His eyes are soft, so I'm not too worried right now. "I'll be in Buffalo," he murmurs and brushes his thumb over my lip. "Just two days—nothing to worry about. You know me, honey. You know when I'm frustrated, anxious, angry, jittery…you know my tells, right?" I nod quickly. "Good. And do I look any of those things right now?"

I blow out a breath. "No." But it doesn't matter. There will still me a rock in the pit of my stomach until he returns.

I'm just lucky these trips don't come too often—maybe once a month, if that… It all depends, really. At times, there's evidently a lot going on, so he's gone more, but more often than not, things are good. And in his everyday life, he goes to work around noon and comes home around nine or ten. He spends most days at the restaurant doing God knows what. Except for Tuesdays—that's the day he doesn't stumble into bed until dawn. And he usually sleeps 'til two or three the following day.

Have I worried about infidelity? Of course. Especially in the beginning. I was afraid he'd go out and find a new hummingbird. I even followed him one time, and things did get a little ugly when he caught me outside of Felix's club that Tuesday. Then he took pity on me, or showed me mercy—whichever you prefer—and told me that Tuesday is the day Felix meets with all his "business partners" and that he pretty much is Felix's right-hand man, not counting Ed Senior.

With time, Junior's shown me how devoted he is to me, to us, and I'm so happy we don't have to go through the crap some of our close ones do.

I won't even go into all that now.

Too depressing.

"Smile," my husband tells me softly.

I try and fail.

He sighs and kisses my nose. "Everything will be—everything _is_ okay. Two days, that's it. Stop with the pout; it's not becoming."

Right. Two days. "Change of topic, please? How's Anthony—is he home yet?"

"Uh…" He nods. "Yeah—got back a little while ago."

"Okay." I release a breath and shake off the previous subject. "Everything is good with him? He wasn't up this morning when I left, so I haven't seen him."

"Yep. All's good." He takes a sip from his wine, and I do the same. "He was out with his buddies earlier…" He shrugs. "How's Elisa? She was wit'chu?"

I nod and take out the flour, followed by eggs. "She was at the mall close to the restaurant, so we picked her up afterward. And Dominic?"

He chuckles. "I'm a little surprised he hasn't barged in here yet. He's usually so eager to get to Mama." He grins and pops another olive in his mouth. "He's good, by the way. Julia, too."

All right, then. "I love you." I smile and pucker my lips.

"I love you, too." He dips down and kisses me. "My gorgeous hummingbird."

I hum, as if on cue. "My sexy Juniuh."

A comfortable silence follows, and I cook while Junior insists on sampling each and every little thing…several times.

Overall, I love my life. There are several thorns, but when I have this to come home to, this to call mine? I'm blessed.

As for the thorns—not counting my worry for Junior's work—it's all petty.

Oh, but there is one thing, though… "Rosalie mentioned something to me a few days ago," I say pensively. Rosalie is often fighting with Emmett, so I tend to tune out a bit after a while, but this stuck with me, and I know why. All those years ago, I knew in my gut that the coincidences were too many. Carlisle Colucci is murdered and then on the same day as his funeral, Junior's ex-wife happens to drop dead, too? Yeah, I don't think so. "She told me that Emmett has this idea he can't get rid of. It started when he came home from Miami a couple months ago."

He tilts his head. "Ah-huh?"

I nod as I roll out the dough for the ravioli. "According to Rosalie, Emmett doesn't believe the Cubans killed Carlisle." I give my husband a sideways glance. Aside from a slight stiffening of his shoulders, there's nothing. "Can you believe that?"

And it's Junior's turn to hum. "Hmm. How about that?"

_Yeah, how about that._

* * *

**The End of Grand Tale**

**The first chapter of Grand Vendetta will be posted in a couple days, and you'll find it in this story, too - on chapter 11.  
**


	11. Vendetta 1

**Aaaaaaand welcome to the first chapter of Grand Vendetta - again, for the re-readers. Small changes. A few of them. **

**As always, special thanks to Lisa, Lexi, Francesca, and Kitty :)**

**Oh, and just to refresh your memory: chapter 9 of Grand Tale was in 1980, the epilogue takes place in 1990, and we kick off here in 1993 :)**

* * *

**Grand Vendetta**

**Chapter 1**

**Translation**

_Magari sarebbe meglio se smettessi di dimagrire_ = Maybe it would be better if you stopped losing weight

_Perché é nella nostra stanza_? = Why's she in our room?

_Scusa_! _Scusa_! = I'm sorry! I'm sorry!

_Non é la stessa cosa_ = That's not the same thing.

_Non ti sento_ = I can't hear you.

_Vado a fare due chiacchiere con tuo zio_. = I'm just gonna catch up with your uncle.

**May 1993**

**Hummingbird's POV**

I shake my head, definitely disagreeing with Gianna. She doesn't see that our husbands protect us; she thinks they're controlling us. Granted, Junior always wants to know what I'm doing, and his reasons are hardly always about my well-being, but the fact remains: if they think we need our security, we should be thankful. Hell, it's the least they can do when their work puts us in danger.

"Of course you don't think the same, Bella." Gianna scoffs at me as she adjusts her bikini top. "You do whatever Junior tells you."

I give her the finger and then take sip from my Bloody Mary. Rose, Brianna, Alice, and Maria chuckle. It's nothing new that Gianna and I are butting heads. She and Maria usually disagree with whatever I say. They're not particularly fond of Alice or Brianna, either. Rose stands somewhere in the middle. Still, regardless of our bitching, we meet up at my house several times a week. Now, for instance, we're lounging by our pool.

"I just want to get away from all this," Gianna complains.

I roll my eyes behind my sunglasses. "Felix will never grant you a divorce."

"I have my own rights!" she argues.

Sitting up in my lounger, I face her with an incredulous expression on my face. "What world do you live in?"

That shuts her up.

Crazy talk.

Felix would kill her before he divorced her.

"Bella's right, Gianna," Alice sighs contentedly, relaxing in her own chair. Although, I gotta admit she doesn't look _too_ comfortable. She's been pretty quiet today. "You're too negative."

True, and if Gianna wasn't such a bitch to Felix, maybe he would smile when he got home at night.

"Some don't have what you three have, though," Rose points out, waving a hand at Brianna, Alice, and myself. "I don't know the last time I saw Emmett look at me the way your husbands look at you. Besides," she mutters, "he's barely home at all."

"When was the last time you did the same, Rosalie?" Brianna shoots back. I nod, agreeing with her. "You just expect Emmett to adore you when your face is locked in that bitter expression? Please." She huffs and sits back, pulling down her sunglasses from her hair.

"_Magari sarebbe meglio se smettessi di dimagrire_," I mumble under my breath. Only Brianna and Alice heard me, since they're sitting next to me.

"Yeah, and someone please tell her a vodka drink isn't the breakfast of champions," Brianna whispers.

I can't help but laugh at that, and it's the truth. Rosalie, Gianna, and Maria seem to believe the less they eat, the sexier they become. So, they exchange meals for alcohol. Dumb broads. Don't they know that a real man loves a real woman? Junior would force-feed me if I lost my curves. He says, "I need cushion for the pushin'." Plus, if I lost weight, the wrinkles would appear since the skin doesn't catch up as easily at our age. We're not twenty anymore. I'm months from thirty-nine, but I look good because I take care of my body. Rose, Gianna, and Maria are skinny and bony, and their skin looks looser.

God gave us women curves; we shouldn't struggle to erase them.

"_Ma, I'm home!"_ I hear Anthony shout from inside._ "And I'm starving!"_

What else is new? My boys are always starving.

Before I can respond, I hear Junior's loud voice, too. Huh. He's home early. _"So goddamn demanding! Go kiss your mother first." _A smack follows, which means my son will probably be rubbing the back of his head when he comes out.

Turns out I'm right. Anthony comes out, nursing the spot Junior smacked, and my handsome husband follows, grinning from ear to ear when he sees me.

After casually greeting the ladies around me, Anthony walks over. "Hey, Ma." He smiles sheepishly and dips down to kiss my cheek.

"Hey, baby." I smile and remove my shades. "How was school?"

I'm so proud of Anthony. He's not even seventeen yet, but he's graduating from high school in a couple of weeks. As far as I know, he's not going to college, but that's okay. I think he wants to work at the restaurant.

"Boring." He shrugs and rubs his belly. "Is there anything to eat around hea'?"

"Isn't there always?" I cock a brow at him. "We'll eat around six, but you can grab some leftovers from yesterday if you want." He gives me another kiss and then starts to leave. "Don't touch anything on the third shelf!" I holler after him. That's for my brother's birthday this weekend. Jasper's turning forty-three, and we're having a barbecue for him here.

Anthony waves a hand, acknowledging that he heard me, and then I have my husband in front of me, kissing me hello.

"I'm just here to pick something up in my office," he murmurs before nibbling a little on my bottom lip. "Fuck—you look good. New bikini?" I nod as he stands up fully. I bought it yesterday when I was out shopping with Alice and Brianna. Simple, black, and does wonders for my tits. "Very sexy." He smirks. "So, dinner—I might be late."

I don't ask why. I never do. Thankfully, though, he's usually home on time. "I'll save you a plate. Be careful, _ciccino_."

"Always am. Are all the kids home?"

"Dominic's probably in his room, and Julia's watching a movie in our bedroom. Elisa should be home any minute."

He frowns. "_Perché é nella nostra stanza_?"

"You don't wanna know," I say wryly and reach for my drink. I take a sip, noticing Junior's raised eyebrow; he does want to know. "She broke the TV in the living room." I wave a hand.

And Julia doesn't like the TV in the kids' rec room. She says it's too small.

Brianna snickers next to me. "She got mad at the remote and took it out on the TV."

Yeah. The remote didn't work—probably needed new batteries or something—so she screamed and threw it at the TV. Now there's a huge crack in the thick glass. How she even managed that, I don't know.

"That doesn't make sense," Junior says, giving his sister a glance before facing me again. "I'll go talk to her. Could you get Dominic for me? I need a word with him, too."

I stand up, wondering what's wrong. I can usually read my husband very well, but there's no denying that he's a skillful liar. However, when it comes to our children, there's often a crease between his eyebrows, and it alerts me if something's up.

"Something you wanna tell me?" I ask, touching his arm.

He shakes his head no. "Not yet. After I've spoken to Dominic." Then he smacks my ass, making me giggle. "Make me a sandwich, too—before I go?" I nod and reach up to kiss his lips. Feeding my men is something I love. "_Grazie, bell'uccellino_."

"_Prego_," I chuckle, walking away.

When I get upstairs, I pass Elisa's room, Julia's room, their bathroom, the rec room, and the boys' bathroom before I stop in front of Dominic's door. Anthony's room is the next one, and the reason for putting him farthest down the hall is because he likes to sneak in girls after hours. But with all his siblings' rooms in the way, it has become increasingly harder for him to succeed without waking anyone up. And my two youngest are tattletales. They love barging into Junior and my bedroom downstairs to rat their brother out about the girls he brings home.

Giving Dominic's door one knock, I twist the knob and open the door. "_Topolino_, your father—oh, my God!" I cry out and cover my eyes.

"Mom!" he shrieks.

"_Scusa_! _Scusa_!" I shout, quickly slamming the door shut with a loud bang. What I expected to see was him doing his homework or something—not, not…masturbating on his bed with a magazine covering his…his…_boy bits_. "Fuck," I breathe out and fan my face.

Then I scream. "JUNIUH!"

_Dios_, my baby is only twelve! And he's in there…_jacking it_.

"What's wrong?!" Junior whispers frantically, running toward me with his gun drawn.

_Shit._

**Junior's POV**

After watching Isabella's ass jiggle as she heads upstairs, I talk to Julia and tell her to stop ruining our fucking furniture. Then…I hear my wife's scream, which leads me to believe we're under a goddamn attack or something, and I run up the stairs as fast as I can, pulling out my piece as I go…only to find out that my youngest son is jerking off?

"You scared me to death," I hiss, tucking my gun away into my waistband again. "For Christ's sake, Isabella…"

I blow out a breath, still trying to calm my fucking heart. My hands go to my hips; I stare down my wife, waiting for a response. 'Cause I want a damn apology…or at least an explanation for her screaming. While I never lose my shit on a job, my family is an entirely different matter.

"I'm sorry, _ciccino_," she whispers, cupping her cheeks. "I just freaked out. That's—that's our baby in here!" She points at Dominic's door.

My bet is that he's currently hiding under his covers, beyond mortified.

Half amused, I replace her hands with my own and smirk. "He'll be thirteen this December. You know that, right?" Fuck, when I was thirteen, I always I had a hand stuck down my pants. Isabella pouts. "Stop that," I chuckle and lean down to kiss that pout. "Maybe it's time I give Dominic the talk I gave Anthony."

She takes a step back and glares at me. "You will not tell Dominic to 'use a glove or you'll have eighteen years of baby love'. Can I tell Elisa the same thing, huh?"

I suck my teeth. "_Non é la stessa cosa_. Elisa's my angel—my baby." Isabella scoffs and shakes her head. "Quit it—she's not having sex until there's a ring on her fucking finga'."

Elisa—God bless her—is innocent and perfect. She's going to college, and I won't settle for some two-bit scumbag for her. Her husband needs to be perfect, too.

"Elisa will be sixteen this December. You know that, right?" Isabella retorts, mocking me. "You're such a hypocrite, Juniuh."

"I won't fight with you over this. I'll talk to Dominic—end of discussion." I take a step toward our youngest son's door. "Go downstairs; start dinner or something." I smack her ass, because it's mine and looking all delectable in that tiny bathing suit. _Madonn'_. It earns me another glare, but she doesn't say anything and walks away. "I love you!" I shout after her, grinning. I love it when she's mad. It means the claws will come out when I fuck her tonight.

Opening Dominic's door, I see that my previous thought was pretty spot-on. He's on his bed, on his stomach, with his head buried in his pillow. Such a fucking cutie. My baby boy's growing up. Which is also why I have beef with him, 'cause I'm sick of hearing about him on the street. Like I said, he's growing up, and I think he feels as if he has something to prove. Today, for instance, when I was in my office at _Stella Mia_, Milo—Dominic and Julia's driver—called me from a payphone and said that Dominic's skipping school to smoke cigarettes behind the bleachers.

"Mama's gone," I inform him and sit down on the edge of his bed. "Quit hiding." I slap his ass. "We need to talk."

He groans and flips over. "What is it?" He huffs. I want to grin when I see his reddened cheeks. "I don't wanna talk about—whatever just happened."

"You mean Mama catching you?" I smirk. That causes him to groan and turn over again, but I manage to stop him, all while laughing. "Aw, don't be embarrassed, baby!"

"Dad!" he grits out. "Just say what you wanna say and go!"

"Ay!" I shout. "This is my fucking house." I point to my chest. "I can stay here for as long as I want. _Capisce_?"

"Fine," he whispers.

I cup my ear. "_Non ti sento_."

"I said fine! Your house, your rules, you do what you want. Happy?"

I nod. "And lose the attitude. Now, talk to me." That's one thing I love about my sons—they actually come to me for advice. Anthony comes sooner than Dominic but, in the end, they both turn to me of all people. Not friends, not Isabella… Me. My daughters are different, but I understand that. "What you were doing in here—" I wave a hand "—it's nothing to be ashamed of. Every guy does it, Dee. So, talk." I figured if I used the nickname his friends and siblings use, it'd be more casual? I don't fucking know.

He's still mortified and redder than a tomato, but I can see he wants to ask questions.

"You do it?" he asks, his voice cracking a little.

Okay, not the question I expected, but no matter. "No," I admit. "I have a wife for that." A married man shouldn't have to use his fucking hand, and if your wife is a good one, she does it for you. Hands, mouth, pussy…

"Gross, Dad," he complains. "That's my mom."

"First and foremost—my wife." I shrug. "Have you had sex yet?" In all honestly, twelve is _way_ too young, and I doubt he'll say yes to that. I know Anthony first had sex when he was fifteen—much better age. But I asked to cover all the bases.

"No!" he cries out. I grin. "Jesus!"

I shrug again. "Had to ask. How far have you gone with a girl?"

"Gone?" He scrunches his nose, looking so much like his mother.

I cock a brow at him. "You kissed a broad yet?"

Blushing, he shakes his head no.

I breathe out a sigh of relief. It means all is good.

"Please don't have the sex talk with me, Pops," he whispers, throwing an arm over his eyes.

"You gotta learn—"

"Anthonytoldme," he rushes out. He gulps, still not facing me. "I already know, okay?"

I nod even though he can't see me. "About the risks?"

"Yeah." He releases a breath. "This is so embarrassing."

"Go on," I urge, not giving a fuck if he hates this. That just proves how opposite of ready he is. When Anthony came to me—Jesus Christ—he wouldn't stop asking questions. He didn't blush, either.

Dominic starts stuttering. "When you h-have, um, sex, y-you need to use a c-condom. Or you'll get sick—or you'll have a kid."

Gotta love my Anthony. He's saved me some trouble here.

"Your brother's right. And you know how sick you could get?" I ask, stifling a smile.

"No? Anthony didn't say."

"Your dick could fall off," I say, all solemn and shit. The look on Dominic's face is priceless. Fucking with my kids this way—simply hilarious. It's the only time I allow Isabella to give me a whack in the back of my head. If she finds out I'm doing this, that is. 'Cause I know it's dumb, but—fuck—so fun.

"Are you kidding me?" he squeaks out.

I shake my head no. "The next topic is ditching classes. Are you fucking stupid?"

He stares at me, wide-eyed, and I wonder if he really thought it wouldn't come back to me. Seriously, I have eyes all over Vegas.

"I couldn't care less if you go off to college or not, but you _will_ graduate high school." I point a finger at him, frustrated and pissed. I'm being truthful; college is nothing I care about. The only reason I want my Elisa to go to college is because it would probably delay her next step, which is getting married and popping out kids. But if she goes to college and maybe becomes something—like a doctor, maybe—it would put her other crap on hold. Plus, she likes science and math and shit like that.

"Anthony skips classes, too," he argues petulantly.

I smirk. "His grades are still perfect—he's even graduating early. Will you do the same, and are your grades good?" I don't give him a chance to reply. Hungry and in a hurry to leave, I stand up. "Focus on school. Are we clear? I swear…if I catch you ditching one more _fucking_ class…" I make a choking motion with my hands.

He gulps. "Yes, sir."

I nod. "_Bene_. I gotta go back to the restaurant. Love you, _tesoro_."

When I get back downstairs and walk into the kitchen, I sigh to myself and grab the sandwich Isabella's made me. I'm a little surprised Duchess and Duke—our two dogs—aren't sniffing about. Yeah, only two dogs left. The Doberman and the French Bulldog. Lucy died last year. It almost broke my Elisa's heart, which in turn made me wanna pull my hair out.

God knows I love my children—my family is everything to me—but they all know how to turn my hair grey. Mostly the kids, but Isabella's fiery temper has probably caused a hair or two to go grey, too. Yeah, there are a few along my temples. Aging sucks. I'll be forty-one soon. And I can't hide it, either. Isabella goes to the salon every few weeks, and she's meticulous about her body, so she's more beautiful than ever. Me, on the other hand? Forget about it. I may be fit and healthy—Isabella's fine cooking sees to that—but I sure as hell don't feel twenty-five anymore. In my youth, it was all about fucking my hummingbird 'til she couldn't walk, making paper, starting our family, having fun, hitting the yak… Now, though? A quiet evening with the wife, catching up with my kids, maybe taking Isabella dancing or sampling her cooking, hanging out by the pool, talking shit…

At the same time, I'm a little bored. No, not bored. Restless. Things are too easy.

Especially for me. The restaurant is my front, and then I have two men on my crew—Nicola, that's Jasper's kid, and Enzo, the head chef at _Stella_. That's it. I follow Felix around at times, since he likes having me and my pops with him, but other than that, I only have my contracts, and they don't exactly take up all my time.

At first, we thought Emmett was gonna give us trouble when I found out through Isabella that he was spending some time down in Florida. He was questioning whether or not the Cubans iced Carlisle, and as soon as Isabella had told me this, I told Felix. But nothing happened. Emmett never came to us; he never voiced his doubts.

Still, whenever he goes to Florida, we tail him. As it turns out, though, he has a goomah down there—one he doesn't see too often but still takes care of—so nothing has come from following him.

"Pops?"

Turning around and leaning against the counter, I see Anthony approaching. He has a sandwich in his hand, too, and if I know my wife—which I do—Isabella made one for him, too.

"Can I come with you to _Stella_?" he asks.

I shrug. "Sure. But ask your mother first. I'm leaving in five."

"Cool—I'll be right back." He turns around again and heads toward the backyard.

Vinny—the boss in Jersey—and his wife are coming out for Jasper's birthday this weekend, and we're having a sit-down tomorrow at the restaurant, so that's why I'm heading back there now. I gotta make sure everything is taken care of so I don't get interrupted tomorrow. We usually have bigger sit-downs at _Stella Mia_, but with things running so smoothly, there hasn't been one in a while.

Ever since Carlisle died and Felix took over, our family and the one in New Jersey do more together. Our family has expanded, yet we've lost New York. You win some and you lose some. It's all good, and we still make a lotta paper with Jersey. But the big money's out west. The drugs are pouring in from South America, which is why we've focused more on California and Mexico. Other than that, we also do business in Kansas City, Miami, and St. Louis.

My youngest sister—Victoria—actually lives in Kansas City now. She's married to a judge. Although, behind closed doors, he's as crooked as I am. He's in Felix's pocket.

Just as I've finished my sandwich, Anthony returns to the kitchen with a grin on his face. It tells me that Isabella has given him the green light to come with me. If she knew _why_ Anthony wanted to go, she wouldn't be as compliant.

'Cause he's running errands for Jasper now.

~oOo~

After making sure everything's set for tomorrow at _Stella Mia_, Anthony and I drive over Dawn—Jasper's club that used to be mine. It's also my son's playground. The first time I told one of Jasper's girls to dance for Anthony…damn, I almost had to physically force him to come home.

"_Cazzo_," he hisses quietly, watching the stage where two girls are performing. "Pops, how can you stay away from that?"

Easily. "I have your mother at home," I chuckle, making my way toward Jasper's office. If only my kids knew their mother used to rock this stage like no other. Anthony is crazy protective of his mother; if a man so much as looks at her, he lets me know. I'm very grateful. It's actually why my son hates Emmett Jr.—or EJ as he's called. That kid can't stop gawking at Isabella. Disrespectful fucking kid. Sneaky, too; he never does it when I'm around anymore. But I ain't stupid.

"I'm glad you feel that way, really." He nods, eyes glued to the stage as we walk. "Still." He bites down on his knuckles when a broad dips low and then rubs her ass against the pole. "_Madonna mia_, that ass!"

I laugh and slap his shoulder. Meanwhile, I'm not sure I have his attention at all. His eyes never leave the stage. "Feel free to stay out here. _Vado a fare due chiacchiere con tuo zio_."

"Yeah, okay." He makes a beeline for the stage.

That's my son, all right. He's all about tits and ass—just like I am. I can't fucking decide what's best, but why would you have to when you have both? Right?

With another chuckle, I knock on Jasper's door as I watch Anthony plop his ass into a chair near the stage. And shit…I remember that. I remember how close I had to sit when it was Isabella working here. I had to see her. I had to be the closest. Even back then, I wanted to be the only one. Which I became quickly. It may have taken me a while to get her to fall in love with me, but the woman was still mine from jump. I made sure of that.

"_Come in!"_ I hear Jasper shout.

I let myself into the office, a grin on my face, and it doesn't waver when I see Jasper holding his gun.

"Oh, it's you." He tucks away his piece again.

I smirk and sit down across from him at his desk. "No need to sound so disappointed." Immediately, I notice how tired he looks. There are dark circles under his eyes, and I'm willing to bet he hasn't shaved in a few days. _Odd_. I hope he's not meeting associates in that fucking state. "You okay?" I jerk my chin at him.

He waves me off. "It is what it is."

"What is?" I light up at smoke, feeling nosy. Isabella and Alice spend time together several times a week, and no matter how little how I care about inconsequential bullshit, something tells me this ain't trivial. But since our wives see each other that often, it feels like I would've heard something, 'cause my wife adores that crap—gossiping and sharing. She's so cute, gets so giddy—over pretty much nothing.

"Alice kicked me out," he suddenly says and pulls at his hair. "I've slept here for the past three days."

I frown. "It's your house." I don't get that shit. No matter what it's about, it's Jasper who works and brings home the money. How the hell can a wife ever kick out the man?

"She thinks I'm cheating on her."

Oh, come on. Jasper, Riley, Enzo, and I are in the same boat. We're all stupid in love with our wives. Goomahs, random broads…they don't exist for us; nothing can top what we go home to. My father's the same. He can only see my mother. In my opinion, that's actually good. Isabella once said it, and it's the truth: a happy wife means a happy household. As long as I keep my hummingbird happy, the rest will follow. She's attentive, giving, nurturing, almost always smiling, and she satisfies my every sexual need. Isabella has a strong will, but she also knows when to fall in line.

If Isabella kicked me out of my own bed… Ha! I'd never allow it. Simple as that. She pulled it off a few times before we got married, but…

"That's fucking crazy," I chuckle, twirling a finger at my temple. "Is there even a reason for her to doubt you?" Unlike me, Jasper works late every night. He has four clubs in Nevada—two in Vegas, one in Reno, and one in Carson City. He also has a crew to run, tribute to collect and pay, and other investments to keep track of. Jasper is a busy man—busier than I am. Still, he's been with Alice for what—almost fifteen years now? No, thirteen. Thirteen years. That's a long time. Something new must've happened for my cousin—second cousin; no matter—to think Jasper has a piece on the side.

"I don't know," he admits to my surprise. I almost choke before I exhale some smoke through my nose. He looks to me, wary and hesitant. "I haven't done anything—I just…" He sucks his teeth. "I don't know. Sometimes." He waves a hand.

"It's not worth it." I shake my head then place a hand on my chest. "But that's _my_ opinion." I lean forward in my seat. "Over the years, yeah, maybe you wonder, but…" No. The few times I've looked at another woman, wondering what it'd be like to fuck her and then go home to my wife… Damn—just thinking about it hurts. Honest to God, I've never considered it for a moment, but since it's so common—it's everywhere—you sometimes try to put yourself in another man's shoes—a man who has a comare or whatever. My chest gets all fucked up, and there's guilt. Imagine walking around with that weighing you down? Fuck that. And then when Isabella found out—'cause it'd just be a matter of when—you'd know how heartbroken she'd be whenever you looked into her eyes.

God forbid—if Isabella ever had the same thoughts about other men.

"_Cazzo_." I rub my chest and grimace. "You're depressing me, you muthafucka'."

What Jasper does, that's his business. Sometimes I get sucked into gossip; I can't fucking help it. I blame my wife. But deep down, I don't want to know. I worry about my family and my pockets—that's it. It can be fun when it's about the never-ending drama in Felix's, Emmett's, and Alec's lives. 'Cause their wives…Jesus Christ. However, in Felix's case, it actually does concern me. Gianna hates Francis—Felix's youngest son—and often shows it by favoring her own two kids. Over the years, it has lead to Francis often sleeping at my house. There's a pull-out couch in Anthony's room just for that reason. Francis is innocent; he can't help who his mother was. Heidi, God rest her soul, should never have died in that fire at the MGM thirteen years ago. Same goes for Francis' two brothers. Their deaths have made huge impact on how Felix is today. Francis was still so young at the time, but I know he still remembers some of his mother. Anyway, the animosity between Felix and Gianna is still there—understandable, I guess—but for Gianna to take it out on Francis? That's not okay.

"I am deeply sorry for making you mushed," Jasper says sarcastically. I flip him off. "I wouldn't want to disturb you in your perfect world."

I can't help but laugh at that. "You think my life is perfect?" That's ridiculous. I'd die for my four children—my four cockblockers—but they don't exactly make my life easy. There's always something wrong. Julia and her tantrums, Dominic and his newfound love for breaking our rules, Elisa's way of attracting boys, and Anthony…don't get me started on Anthony. He's too much like me. He doesn't have a conscience, and his heart only goes out to immediate family. It makes him lethal. If he continues doing what he does now, it won't be many years before Felix initiates him. And that scares me a little. Now, while he's on Jasper's crew, his little low-man, it's still petty. Anthony doesn't do too much, but to get that button—to take the oath—you gotta leave petty behind.

Then we have Isabella… Shit. She knows how to bust my fucking balls. Like Elisa and Julia, she has me wrapped around her pinky, though I'm good at hiding it.

I'm the fucking man; you can't run a house if you have a pussy.

This is all just family stuff. In all honesty, I have no complaints. What I do to be able to afford the luxury I surround my family with is another matter. Not that I feel bad or any lame shit like that, but it's not a fucking piece of cake.

Flicking some ash into the ashtray on Jasper's desk, and I look to him and catch his bitchy pout as he stares into space. The man looks close to tears.

I shake my head, ready to get out of here. "Just don't bring your troubles to my house. They end up being my problems—I don't want that." I put out my smoke and then lean back in my seat again. "Now, the reason I'm here. How's my son doin'?"

I'm Anthony's father; I can't be his boss. Felix manages well with Joseph—his oldest—but I prefer to keep my own son at arm's length at work. Jasper's the same with Nico.

"He's…" He nods pensively, tenting his fingers on the desk. "He's learning. He's wiser than most sixteen-year-olds. He's smart—calculating and sharp." He taps his temple. "Good with money. Like, investments and shit. All this—fuck, it's a new world, you know? And he's good with all this computer stuff." He laughs a little, and I join in, too. When we grew up, that crap didn't exist. Now, though…it's fucking insane. The world is running on computers. I can barely use a remote control without getting annoyed and confused, but my children, they ace all that. Isabella says I'm stuck in the past. "I told Anthony it was better in the old days, right?" I nod, listening. "And he says that the digital world could actually benefit us." He widens his arms. "How the fuck do I scam a robot?! Now, that's—that's stupid. Otherwise, yeah, he's smart as hell."

I laugh.

Anthony gave me the same speech a couple weeks ago.

But he's gotta lot to learn. Technology—it'll be our downfall.

"We're getting old, Maisano," Jasper sighs, chuckling a little. "One day, our sons will take over."

I purse my lips, pondering. Yeah, we're aging, getting older, but we're not _old_. He's right with his other statement, though. One day, our kids will take over. Jasper's oldest—Nicola—is married at the age of twenty-two, and he has his first child on the way. His wife, a catty little thing, thinks he's the manager of one of Jasper's clubs. He's not. He's one of the two men on my crew, lethal and with a trigger-happy finger. He travels to Carson City and Jasper's club there every once in a while to keep up appearances, but his money comes from doing my bidding. Then we have Joseph, Felix's firstborn, who is twenty-four and on his last year of law school. He both studies and works for his dad. It started with driving around Elisa, and now he handles Felix's books. Lastly, there's EJ—though, he can never be one of us. Rosalie's not Italian, and thank fucking God for that. EJ's twenty-two years old and is basically his father's shadow. He wants to be in the casino business, just like Emmett, but—personally—I don't think he's up to the task. He has no patience, he's hotheaded, and he's openly hostile whenever the Gaming Commission is brought up in conversation. He's not very business-savvy.

Frowning, I sorta wonder who'll take over as boss. It won't happen for years—God willing—but right now I'm finding it difficult to see either of our sons ever being ready to fill Felix's shoes. And I know Felix would never agree to Emmett stepping in. Which would leave Jasper, Alec, and me, and neither of us wants to.

Ugh. Fuck this. I came here to ask Jasper about Anthony, and now I have.

Done.


	12. Vendetta 2

**Special thanks to Lisa, Lexi, Francesca, and Kitty :)**

* * *

**Grand Vendetta**

**Chapter 2**

**Translation**

_Stai zitto_ = Shut up.

_Mmm, la mia fica_. = Mmm, my pussy.

_Cazzo_, _hai un sapore dannatamente delizioso, amore mio_. = Fuck, you taste so goddamn good, my love.

_Ti amo cosi tanto_. = I love you so much.

_Molto divertente, vecchio_ = Very funny, old man.

_Che Casanova che sei_ = You're such a player.

**Hummingbird's POV**

Humming to myself, I take out the lasagna from the oven. Then I put in the second lasagna. It's Saturday today, and we're hosting my brother's birthday party here in a few hours. Since we're having a barbecue and Jasper's favorite dish of mine is lasagna, I figured I could make him one to take home. The second one is for the lunches I sometimes bring to Junior at work. Or when the kids come home and are hungry before dinner.

"We havin' lasagna, Ma?" Anthony asks from behind me.

I smile at him over my shoulder. "No, this is for your uncle."

"What's for his uncle?" Junior joins us in the kitchen. He walks up behind me, snaking his arms around my waist, and drops a kiss on my neck. I laugh and squirm as he tickles my side a little. "Ah, the lasagna. Yeah, Jasper's still obsessed with that thing. Did you make for me, too?"

"Of course I did." Silly question.

He gives my ass a squeeze. "_Madonn'_." He leans in to whisper in my ear, "People aren't showing up for another two hours."

"I'm very aware, Junior," I chuckle wryly.

He groans quietly, nibbling on my ear. His proximity also allows me to feel his erection poking my back. "C'mon, hummingbird. You and me—the laundry room."

"Christ, stop molesting my mother!" Anthony complains.

"_Stai zitto_," Junior replies, and when I turn around, I see that he's wearing that sinister grin of his. "Go check on your siblings; they're by the pool."

I can see that Anthony wants to flip off his father, but I subtly shake my head no. It would do him no good, and he'd probably show up at the barbecue with a black eye.

Junior and Anthony _very_ rarely argue, but when they do, it's pretty huge. Our son is trying to prove that he's a man now, and that means not backing down so easily. Meanwhile, this is Junior's house, and what he says goes. My husband has zero tolerance for disrespect.

Once Anthony has left the room, Junior and I leave the kitchen for the laundry room. It's right next to our bedroom down here, but he knows I have a thing for sitting on the washing machine.

"What do you want, _ciccino_?" I ask with a seductive smile as he closes the door behind us.

I know he had a sit-down with Vinny yesterday, and he didn't come home until three in the morning. At least that's what he said, since I was asleep. Anyway, that meant no sex last night. Not that we have sex every day, but with Junior's libido, it's close enough.

"I want you to sit on that." He points to the washing machine, which is running. "And then I want your pussy on my face."

I squeal internally and hike up my dress before I sit on top of the washer. These last few days, the husband has been all about licking my pussy. It comes and goes after more than seventeen years together. Sometimes he's obsessed with blowjobs, sometimes it's slow lovemaking, sometimes it's rough and fast…and now he's evidently on a pussy streak.

You won't find me complaining.

When I spread my legs, showing the damp spot on my red satin panties, Junior groans and presses his fist to his mouth. Slowly, like a predator, he walks toward me and then kneels before me. His hands slide up my smooth legs, causing a shiver to run through me. His eyes, so smoldering, make my breathing hitch.

"Fuck, I love this pussy," he murmurs huskily, pushing my panties to the side. Then he grazes his nose over my slit. "_Mmm, la mia fica_."

A bead of sweat slowly trickles down my neck since the laundry room is so hot.

"Oh, yeah," I moan breathily and thread my fingers through his hair. With my long fingernails, I scrape his scalp; he loves that. I love it, too, because it makes him groan against my flesh.

Before I know it, he presses his face to my pussy and starts eating me out. Two fingers fuck me while he sucks on my clit.

Then he switches, slipping his tongue inside of me while his fingers rub my clit.

At the same time, the spin cycle begins.

"Oh, God—oh, baby," I gasp, fisting his hair harder.

I _feel_ how his tongue slips in and out of me, softly caressing my inner walls. It's driving me nuts. Same goes for his ministrations on my clit. Rubbing, pressing, circling, pinching gently.

Junior groans. "_Cazzo_, _hai un sapore dannatamente delizioso, amore mio_."

He devours me.

My head tilts back as I feel the orgasm starting to wash over me. It starts in my belly, a tingling sensation spreading throughout my body. And then I explode; I hold my breath, and it's like I'm on fire. My entire being vibrates.

It's too much, and I scream.

By the time I come down from my high, Junior is standing before me, his chest heaving as he unzips his slacks. Oh God, I'm going to get it good now. With a feral look on his face, he pulls me to the edge of the washer and wraps my legs around him. Then he grips his hard cock and slides it between my wet lips.

"I love it when you're loud," he admits, out of breath.

He has worked me up to such a frenzy that I attack.

My mouth goes everywhere, but mainly around his mouth. I love it when we get down and dirty like this, and I know Junior loves it, too. He gets so turned on when I kiss him, tasting myself, and go, "Fuck breathing; he's more important".

My husband wants to be my number one—always—and I make sure to show it. It's what many wives forget when we start popping out kids. We forget our husbands, but not me. I refuse. If he's happy, I am happy, too. Do my kids come before Junior? In my heart, yes. Always. A mother's love—it doesn't get any stronger than that. But many men don't understand this, so I shower my man with as much attention as I do our children.

"Fuck me, _ciccino_," I whimper, clawing at his chest. He shudders and pushes the tip of him into me. "Please—I need you."

Crashing his mouth to mine, he finally shoves his cock deep inside of me.

He swallows my loud moan.

"I love it when you need the cock, too," he pants, setting a fast pace. With open-mouthed kisses, he leaves a moist trail from my mouth down to my collarbone. I know what he wants, so I slide down the straps of my dress to reveal my breasts. "Christ, these are—fucking spectacular. My tits."

"Yours," I breathe out, again tilting my head back. "_Ti amo cosi tanto_."

He moans and wraps his lips around my left nipple, sucking it hard into his mouth.

The pleasure spikes through me, leaving me gasping for air.

Meanwhile, his cock pounds in and out of my pussy, and I can hear how wet I am.

"Baby, I'm close," he grits out and captures my mouth again. "Are you—can you-"

I shake my head. It feels so good, but I just came. I can't orgasm again this soon after. "Come, _ciccino_," I whimper, urging him to go faster by pressing my heels into his ass.

With a guttural moan, he lets go, thrusting lazily and erratically as he releases into me.

To make his climax last longer, I clench down on his as hard as I can.

"God, Isabella!" he groans.

I grin, loving my view.

"So good," he exhales and kisses me softly. Pressing my hand to his heart, I feel how it beats furiously. "Maybe now I can focus out there."

I chuckle, confused and still a bit out of breath. "Focus?"

"Without attacking you." He nods and then pulls out of me. "All day…" He chuckles. "I've been watching you in the kitchen." I laugh and get a kiss on my nose. My Junior can be so freaking sweet.

"Speaking of the kitchen—I need to get back to it." I hop down from the washer and fix my dress. "Alec should be here with the meat for the barbecue soon."

Having a brother-in-law who owns a deli is nice.

"I'm hungry." Junior rubs his stomach. "Is there anything I can eat right now?"

Chuckling, I reach up at pat his cheek. "I'm sure there's something you can sample."

His smile in return is so boyish.

**Junior's POV**

A few hours later, my backyard is full of people. There are kids in the pool, teenagers doing their shit, women gossiping, men standing by the grill, and dogs running around on the lawn. I estimate there are about fifty guests here, so when I say that my backyard is full, I fucking mean it.

Not half of these were invited. My kids wanted to bring some classmates, a few friends of ours wanted to bring dates, a couple of nephews and nieces asked if they could bring more friends…no matta'.

Soon, we're doing this all over again for my forty-first birthday.

_Maybe we can just host a dinner at Stella Mia._

I'll talk to Isabella. She's in charge of all that.

"Look at my girl," Vinny says, nodding at Julia who's in the pool with a million other kids. "She can swim well."

I nod and take a sip from my beer, eyes glued to Julia. She is a great swimmer, but she usually still sticks to the shallow end of the kidney-shaped pool. Now, however, she's cautiously swimming toward Dominic at the deep end.

She used to be afraid of the water—her only fear as far as I know—which is why Isabella hasn't been able to teach her how to swim until now. But my little princess is conquering her fear. I'm proud of her, as is Vinny, her godfather. Though, since Vinny's the same age as my father, Julia calls him Nonno Vin. She's actually named after Vinny's wife—Giuliana. Well, sorta. Vinny and Giuliana often fly out to visit; we're all pretty close, especially Vinny and my father.

"And Elisa," he sighs, "such a beautiful young woman. Maybe next time, Emilio will come out here, too."

I offer him a tight-lipped smile at that, knowing all too well he wants to introduce Elisa to his son and only child. They had him very late, so Emilio isn't more than twenty, but that's still four—almost five—years older than my daughter.

I don't fucking think so.

Vinny could pester Felix instead. Valentina, Felix's only daughter, is twenty-two. Or there's Lucia—Jasper's daughter. She's twenty-one.

"Don't give Junior here a heart attack, Vinny," my little brother chuckles as he checks the sausages on the grill. "Elisa is his little angel."

"Damn right she is," I tell Alec.

"I can already see the vein in his forehead bulging," Riley adds, snickering.

I flip my brother-in-law off.

"All right, I can take a hint," Vinny laughs, slapping me on my shoulder. And that hint? Well, it wasn't very subtle, so if he wouldn't be able to "take" it, I'd be worried.

Felix and Pops chuckle next to me. Jasper doesn't, because he's glaring at Alice, who is standing by the patio with my wife as they set the kids' table. Giuliana, Mom, Esme, and Brianna are standing by another table—a bigger one—where the adults will eat.

I sigh, hoping to God Jasper and Alice's problems won't become mine.

"Daddy!" I hear a little voice call, and I look to my left to see Jasper's youngest running toward him. After Jasper and Alice were married, they only had one more, and that's Sophia. She's eight years old, cute as hell, and Isabella and my goddaughter. "I'm hungry—when's dinner?"

Jasper smiles for the first time today—his own birthday—and focuses on Sophia instead.

Following Jasper's lead, I give my attention to my kids for a while, too. Elisa's sitting by the loungers with a few of her friends and cousins, so I pretty quickly understand that I'm not welcome there. Basically, I ask her if everything is okay, she tells me it is, and then I walk away again. Both Julia and Dominic are in the pool, along with more cousins—we're all fucking related, it feels like—so there's not much I can do there. That leaves Anthony.

Scanning the backyard, I eventually see him standing near the makeshift bar. Isabella's there now, too.

She's wearing a beautiful dress in dark purple—some shiny fabric—and the gold and diamond jewelry set I gave her last week, including a necklace, bracelet, and earrings.

Beer bottle still in hand, I walk over to them.

"Ma, stop," Anthony whines as Isabella straightens his tie. I can't help but chuckle; she's always fussing over our children. "I'm not a kid."

"Yet, you whine like one," I pipe in, stopping next to my wife.

"_Molto divertente, vecchio_," he mutters, patting the pockets of his slacks. For his cigarettes, I assume. "Why do I gotta be all dressed up when all the others are in their bathing suits?"

"All the other _kids_," Isabella corrects. "You just said you aren't one." She points out at the backyard. "You see any adults dressed in bathing suits, huh?" She pinches his cheeks, much to my amusement. "Now, I saw you looking at Elisa's friend over there. You need to make a good impression. Simona, she's a good girl—a good Italian girl. Go make Mama proud." She pulls him down, plants a loud kiss on his cheek, and then wipes away the lipstick she left behind.

I cock a brow at her, 'cause I know Isabella hates Simona's family. Our daughters are in the same grade, and whenever we run into her parents, I have to drag Isabella away before she bitch slaps either of them. She thinks Simona is sweet, but her folks? Forget about it. Simona's father is a cop, and her mother teaches Sunday school. Her mother also seems to think my wife is a bad mother for our children, which couldn't be further away from the truth.

"How good of a girl?" Anthony asks, batting Isabella's hands away from his hair. "She's—" He kisses the tips of his fingers. "_Madonn'_. No words. But that's all I know."

I laugh through my nose and drink my beer, content to just watch.

"She can't wait to get married," Isabella gushes, and I finally see through her plan. She's practically telling our son all the things he hates about girls. At his age, he's hardly looking for a good girl. He wants to have fun. "Can you imagine, _topolino_? You and Simona will have the cutest little babies."

Anthony pales. "Cutest—uh, I-I," he stammers, pulling at his tie. "Mom… Oh, _cazzo_." And with that said, he turns to leave.

Before he walks off, I step forward and give his forehead a big smooch. In return, his cheeks flame red, and he curses under his breath as he hurries away.

Not in Simona's direction.

"I love you, _tesoro_!" I shout at his retreating form. "You go get her!"

"Jesus Christ!" he hisses.

Grinning down at my hummingbird, I draw her close to me. "You're evil. Fucking genius, but evil."

She smiles innocently. "You love me anyway."

"No." I kiss her temple. "I love you because of it. Well, at least it's one of the reasons."

"I love you, too." She lets out a little giggle. "And you know what I've got?" I shake my head. Her eyes light up like the sun, I swear. "Gossip!" she squeals behind her hand. "It's…" She pulls me down to whisper in my ear, and I try to ignore the fact that a part of me gets excited for trivial bullshit. "It's about my brother and Alice."

I groan and straighten up. I do not want to hear about _that_. "It's not our business," I whisper. "Let it go."

She purses her lips, peering up at me with a pensive expression. "Did Jasper come to you? Did he tell you anything?"

I shake my head no.

"You're lying." She sucks her teeth. "I can tell."

"I'm not lying. He hasn't told me a thing," I say, gathering her in my arms. "Cool it." I kiss her on the forehead. "Look, the food is almost done. Let's take our seats, okay?"

She huffs. "Fine."

I give her ass a smack. "Attitude."

"Oh relax, Juniuh." She hugs my midsection. "Lighten up—it's a party." She winks at me before walking toward Alec and the grill. Two grills, actually. "Save me a seat, _ciccino_!" she calls over her shoulder.

I grin as she gives me a little shimmy.

**Anthony's POV**

By the time it's dark outside and all those twinkly lights light up the backyard, pretty much every grown-up is drunk. They're all sitting at the massive table I helped my pop put together this morning. And all the people my age—plus or minus a few years—have gathered around the kids' table. I'd say there're about ten of us at this table, including Elisa, Valentina, Lucia, Francis, EJ, Colin, and a few others. But several of our friends went home after dinner. Now it's mostly cousins and siblings left.

Aside from the twinkle lights in the trees, there are also small torches stuck in the ground around the patio. Oh, and the pool is lit up, which is where many of the little ones are playing around, with the occasional adult walking over to make sure everything's okay.

"Anthony, can't you go grab another wine bottle for us?" Elisa asks too sweetly, sitting across from me at the long table. "We're thirsty." She giggles with her two friends flanking her. Gabriella, Elisa's best friend and Enzo's daughter, should also be here somewhere.

I shake my head and lean back in my seat. Duke's sitting on the ground next to me; he goes to me when Dee's not near. "You really think Mom and Dad would notice?" I chuckle, reaching for my smokes next to my soda. I'd love to throw down a drink or two, but Pops asked me to act as chauffeur later for those who are too hammered to drive themselves and don't have drivers. "Go get a fucking bottle from the bar." I point to it. "The grownups are too drunk to give a shit."

She sticks out her tongue at me. "Dad's got, like, a freaking built-in radar when it comes to me."

True.

"Not my problem." I grin and take a pull from my smoke.

"I can go," Francis offers. He's sitting right next to me but stands up; anything for my baby sister. Dad and Felix say nothing about Francis' crush on Elisa, because they think it's harmless. And that's because we're like third cousins or something. Our fathers are second cousins, so that makes Elisa and Francis third, right? I don't fucking know. Anyway, I wouldn't call it harmless, 'cause the relation is just barely there.

"Thank you," Elisa replies, batting her lashes a little. "You're so nice, Francis."

I roll my eyes as Francis walks away; he looks like he just won the fucking lottery. That guy needs to get his shit greased.

Colin, Valentina, and Lucia laugh.

Then, all of a sudden, I have a little thing on my lap.

_Julia._

"Hi!" She kisses my cheek, and I compose my face, which was just in a grimace. 'Cause she's soaking wet from the pool. "What'cha doin'?" She reaches down to pat Duke's head. That dog is pretty huge, but he's lying down now.

"Nothing much," I say. Running my hand up her arm, I notice how cold she is. "_Piccolina_, you're gonna get sick." I reach behind and take the blazer I hung on my chair earlier and throw it around my sister. "Better?"

She nods and is about to say something, but I hear my father's loud voice then. "JULIA!"

I look over to the adults' table and see him standing up. "She's here with me!" I shout back.

He squints to see clearer and nods. "Yeah, all right." Then he sits down next to my mother again and drapes an arm around her.

"You're so sweet for taking care of your sister like that," a girl giggles. I turn to look at one of Elisa's friends. Sarah, I think her name was. I'm not sure. There's only a year between Elisa and me, but since I'm graduating a year early, you could say there are two years instead of one. So, my sister and I don't exactly run in the same crowds at school.

This Sarah broad's kinda hot, though. Brown hair, blue eyes. She's actually hotter than Simona, who thankfully left early. _Cazzo_, Mom really helped me dodge _that_ bullet.

"Sweet, huh?" I throw her that crooked smirk my pops uses to reel in my mother. _Works every time_. "I don't think I've ever heard that." Unless it's my parents saying it to me.

"Oh, yeah?" She leans forward a little. "What _have_ you heard, then?"

I laugh quietly. "You want me to write a list?"

This girl could be mine within twenty minutes. However, high school chicks usually don't do it for me—I rarely even look at 'em. They were good when I was new in the game. Get a hand job in a janitor's closet, get a blowjob behind the bleachers, lose your virginity at some prom. Whatever. Now it's different.

I'll be seventeen in a few months. I'm a grown man, for fuck's sake.

"God—stop hitting on my brother, Sarah," Elisa bitches.

_Sarah. Confirmed._

I send my sister a wink before I face Sarah again. "I'd rather take a list from you. Words you would use for me."

Sarah grins instead of ducking her head, which I'm used to when I'm being forward. Again, when it comes to high school girls. But maybe this one isn't shy.

Now that I think of it, maybe that's why Gabriella isn't at the table. She's a good girl—through and through—and she'd never go near a glass of wine or ask for it. She and my sister are completely different, yet they're so close.

"I can write a list," Julia mumbles sleepily, reminding me of her presence.

I chuckle. "I'm sure you can." For good measure, I kiss the top of her head.

Sarah notices and beams at me. _Nice_. "Aww, so cute!"

"_Che Casanova che sei_," EJ laughs.

I flip him off, not giving a shit about that douche. He's always gawking at my mother. Creepy fuck.

"What did he say?" Sarah asks me curiously, glancing at EJ.

Most of us around this table are fluent in Italian, but Sarah ain't.

"Nothing important," I answer her. "Hey, I should probably put my sister to bed. You wanna come with?" I'm not one to beat around the bush. If she's down for a fuck—that's perfect. If not, then I have no reason to linger.

"Sure," she replies, quickly standing up. "After you."

_Score._

I smirk at Elisa—at which she glares—before I carry a half-asleep Julia toward the patio.

"You taking Julia to bed, _topolino_?" Mom asks. She giggles at something, maybe at whatever Dad's doing under the table. Or the fact that he has his face buried in her neck. Jesus Christ, he's like a Band-Aid on her.

I nod. "Is Dee asleep, too?"

She shakes her head and points to the pool. Ah, he's there with a few other kids. "Look at Ant-Anthony, _ciccino_," she tells Dad, grinning. She's definitely drunk. "Don't we have the best s-son? So handsome—so helpful with his sister."

Dad chuckles. "Oh yeah, no ulterior motives with that one." He glances between me and Sarah. "You're right, hummingbird. He's just the _best_."

My mother doesn't catch the sarcasm in his voice or the amusement in his eyes, for which I'm fucking thankful. 'Cause she thinks I'm this angel.

"Let the boy go!" Nonno shouts at my parents, seated a few chairs down from them. I think that's what my father will look like in twenty-five years or so. Those two, my dad and grandfather, can go at it, let me tell ya. "Can't you see he's gotta girl with him?" He makes a shooing motion at me. "Go—before your mother decides to kiss you for the fuck of it."

He's a good man.

"Come here, Isabella," he goes on, waving her to him. "Give me that kiss instead."

"OH!" Dad shouts, hugging my giggling mom tightly. "No more alcohol for you, Pop!"

Nonno sucks his teeth and holds up his glass. "It's just wine. Good for my heart. You—" he scowls at Dad "—you, and your siblings—all the grey hairs you've given me. You should cut your old man some slack."

Ma and Nonna laugh at their men.

I take the opportunity to get the fuck outta there.

Jerking my chin at Sarah, I take the lead and head inside.

As soon as we reach the second floor, it gets pretty quiet. The music from the living room downstairs is just there in the background—easily ignored.

Our first stop is Julia's room, where I position her on her bed. Then remember what she's wearing, so I wake her up just so she can change out of her bathing suit and into pajamas. After that, she's out like a light.

"My room is down the hall," I whisper to Sarah as I close Julia's door.

She nods, actually looking a little nervous, and starts walking. That nervousness—I'm gonna have to do something about that.

When we pass Dominic's room, I can hear moaning coming from inside. But it sure as shit ain't my brother. He may be jacking it twenty-four-seven, but that's about it.

"_Oh, Jasper. Please—harder!"_

_"Yeah? You like it hard, gorgeous? Cazzo."_

I grin down at Sarah. I guess my uncle is getting some from Alice.

"Come on, pretty girl," I chuckle quietly, ushering Sarah into my room.


	13. Vendetta 3

**Special thanks to Lisa, Lexi, Francesca, and Kitty :)**

* * *

**Grand Vendetta**

**Chapter 3**

**Translation **

_Davvero_? = Really?

_Dai retta a tua zia, Colin_! = Listen to your aunt, Colin!

_E' un bambinone_. = He's a child.

_E I tuoi ragazza…si sono divertiti anche loro oggi_? = And your kids...they had a good time today, too?

**Hummingbird's POV**

When Alice reemerges from wherever she was inside the house, she walks over to the pool to check on the kids.

I take the opportunity to follow, 'cause finding privacy isn't the easiest when you have a gazillion people in your backyard.

Duchess, our little French Bulldog, trails after me.

"You okay?" I ask her, though my eyes are on Dominic.

"No," she chuckles humorlessly.

I sigh and face her fully. As giddy as I was about the gossip she told me earlier, I'm still concerned. Jasper's my brother, and Alice is one of my best friends.

She's sure that my brother's cheating on her. Meanwhile, I can't really believe it.

"Would he ever even have a reason to cheat?" I whisper. "Jasper—he's crazy about you, Alice."

She sniffles and is quick to wipe away a stray tear. "He doesn't want sex from me," she says, more tears running down. "He doesn't even ask for it anymore."

I frown. "What—you've been on a dry spell? I don't get it."

Dry spells don't exist in Junior's house. Unless I'm sick. He's really doting and understanding when I'm sick, but that's about it.

"I don't know." She shrugs dejectedly. "I mean, I said no a few times. So what? That was about six fucking months ago. Now it's like, whenever we go to bed together—which doesn't happen often—we go to sleep right away."

"Why did you say no?" I blurt out. Sorry, I can't help myself. Rosalie, Maria, and Gianna have pointed out to me several times that my views on marriage are fucked up. But it's how I was raised. The wife puts out—simple as that.

"I wasn't feeling it," she says, irritated. "Is that a crime?"

I don't reply.

I know it's not a crime, but…

Up until the Coluccis and Maisanos moved to Las Vegas, Alice was a Manhattan princess. I'm from Bensonhurst, Brooklyn. Okay, I grew up in both Jersey and Brooklyn; my folks moved a lot, but still. I didn't get fairy tales and watered-down versions of what marriage was. My mother was blunt and told me exactly what was expected of me to keep my husband satisfied. But Alice…she was so sheltered. Same goes for Brianna—Junior's sister—but she has embraced the shit that comes outta my mouth. Victoria, Junior's other sister, is like Alice, too.

"Say what you wanna say," she whispers, now pleading with her eyes. "I actually want to know."

I offer her a small smile. "You know how I think."

"You always say yes," she states and gives me a dubious look.

I shrug. "Yeah."

"You always want it," she presses.

At that, I laugh. "Hell no!" I put my hand over my mouth to stifle my laughs. "That's ridiculous." I snort. "Of course I don't."

She looks incredulous. "But you go along with it? Junior tells you to spread your legs and you do it—" she snaps her fingers "—just like that?"

I shrug again. "It keeps him happy. Why argue over it? I remember—_cazzo_, when I was pregnant. Do you understand how fucking whiny my husband is when he doesn't get pussy on regular basis?" My eyes widen. "I'd rather stick it out for ten minutes while he gets his than have to listen to his complaining." I'm not lying, either. Men really are like children. "It's called faking, honey." I pat her arm. "And if you put on a good show, it's over much quicker. To me—" I place a hand on my chest "—ten or fifteen minutes of fucking are a whole lot better than hours of bitching and moaning."

"Hunh." She purses her lips. "How often do you fake it?"

"Depends. But if Junior wants sex five times a week, maybe I want three."

"So, twice a week? _Davvero_?"

I smile sweetly. "But look at my husband." I point toward the table. Junior's currently laughing his ass off at whatever Ed or Riley has said. Those three, along with Felix, Alec, and Jasper are always close. Vinny, too, now that he's here in Vegas. "Doesn't he look happy?"

Alice scowls at the ground.

Sparing a glance at the pool, I catch Dominic and Colin splashing water on two of Elisa's friends. One of them is Gabriella, Enzo's daughter. Such a sweet girl. The other one…Amanda, I think her name is, is in Elisa's class.

"Boys!" I shout. Their heads whip around, eyes widening when they see me. "Cut that shit out!" Dominic can be a hell raiser—occasionally—but Colin, Brianna and Riley's boy, is usually sweeter than sugar. "Apologize to the girls." I point.

"It's okay, Mrs. Maisano," Amanda giggles.

I keep staring at Dominic and Colin.

"_Dai retta a tua zia, Colin_!" Riley shouts across the yard.

"Sorry, Bella," Colin mumbles, most definitely embarrassed. At the age of almost fourteen, the last thing he wants is to be told what to do.

He's so fucking cute that I just wanna pinch his cheeks.

"Sorry, Mom," Dominic follows with a grumble.

"I didn't tell you to apologize to _me_." I point to my chest.

Still mumbling and grumbling, they apologize to the two giggling girls, and that's that. The boys leave the pool and start playing football farther away.

Shaking my head, I refocus on Alice, who is looking pensive.

Maybe my views on marriage are old-fashioned, but I don't give a fuck. Junior and I are happy. I treat him like a fucking king and, in return, he treats me like a queen.

Brianna and I are on the same page. We think alike.

"So, you're saying that it's my fault Jasper strays?"

"First of all—" I hold up a finger "—you don't know for sure he's cheatin' on you. Second—" another finger comes up "—no, it's definitely not your fault—_if_ he's fucking around. I think that if a man wants to cheat, he will do so no matter how much his wife spreads her legs. But—" I stress "—for my own peace of mind, I want to know that I've done everything I could to make him happy. And men…" I chuckle darkly. "Men care about three things. Money, sex, and food. They also get jealous of their own kids if they get more attention."

Alice nods. "Jasper tells me I care too much about Sophia."

"Well, my brother's a fucking idiot," I say wryly. "But Juniuh's the same. If I dote on our children, I gotta make sure to do the same with him. Don't get me wrong, he'd die and kill for our babies. They mean the world to him, but he wants attention, too. That's just how it is."

"ISABELLA!"

Looking over my shoulder, I see Junior standing by the door to the living room.

"We gotta change this fucking noise!" He's referring to the music. He doesn't like what our kids listen to.

"What's keeping you, _ciccino_?!" I shout back, grinning.

"The fucking CD player—that's what!" He punches his palm. "The remote doesn't work!"

I turn to Alice again and roll my eyes. "See what I mean? _E' un bambinone_. He's also stuck in the seventies." I widen my arms. "He bought the damn stereo for the kids, but he hates it—he only wants to play records. Why did he even buy it?"

Alice giggles. "Jasper's the same. We gotta have all the new stuff, but can he work it? No!"

"I can help you, Daddy!" Elisa volunteers from the kids' table.

And Junior melts. "_Grazie_, _angioletto_."

I sigh, amused, and face Alice once more. "He's so fooled by that girl—thinks she's an angel."

"Just like you're fooled by Anthony?" She snorts a laugh.

My brows furrow. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Anthony—God bless him—may not be perfect, but he's still a good boy. Aside from minor issues—some fighting, gambling, drinking—he hasn't done much.

"I hear he often hangs out at Dawn," she whispers. "Lucia heard it from Nico."

No way. "My son wouldn't—" I palm my forehead. Oh, who am I kidding? I can't lie to myself. Anthony's growing up; of course he'd get a kick outta naked women on a stage. "Never mind." I wave my hand tiredly. "As long as that's all it is."

Alice is about to say something, but the first tunes of Frank Sinatra's _I've Got You Under My Skin _filter through the air, which stills all conversation. I look toward the door, smiling widely when I see an overjoyed Junior coming back out. Elisa trails after, rolling her eyes, but she's amused.

"Isn't that the song you danced to at your wedding?" Alice asks.

I nod, eyes still locked with my husband's. "He's so sappy when he's drunk—I love it. Sometimes," I lower my voice to a whisper, "I give him a few glasses of wine—just 'cause he gets so romantic."

Junior does have a romantic side of him, and he's not afraid to show it, but when he's had a couple drinks too many, he gets even sweeter.

"Get ova' hea', _bell'uccellino_," he says, wearing a silly grin. "Dance with me."

"Go." Alice gives me a gentle push. "Dance with your husband. I'm gonna track down Jasper. I haven't seen him in a while."

**Anthony's POV**

Okay, so I didn't get laid, but I did get my dick sucked.

Saving herself for marriage, Sarah said before she got down on her knees.

_No matter._

My mom always says that broads who do more kneeling for guys than they do in church aren't worth an engagement ring.

"Um…" Sarah gets off the floor and wipes her mouth. In the meantime, I tuck myself back into my pants. "You wanna fool around for a while?"

_That'd be a no._

Still, my father taught me to be polite, and…I don't know how the fuck to tell this girl to scram—to tell her that I've already gotten what I wanted…without sounding like a prick.

Running a hand through my hair, I look behind me, to my bed, and think…_ah, fuck it_. "Sure," I eventually mutter, hoping to come off as at least a little enthusiastic. I take her hand and pull her to me; her breathing stutters.

I smirk and drop a couple soft kisses along her jaw.

"So," she whispers, "is it true what they say about your family?" I straighten up and stare down at her with my brows furrowed. "You know—the Coluccis and the Maisanos."

I frown. "Excuse me?" I thought she wanted to fool around…

"Oh, you know," she giggles and slides both hands up my chest. I guess she's going for sexy? "Um, some of my friends say that your father and uncles—that you're in the mob?" At that, my eyebrows shoot up. I ain't dumb; I know the rumors, but for Sarah to come out and say it… "You can tell me anything," she says in a rush. "I won't tell a soul."

I wanna laugh. Holy shit, I really wanna fucking laugh.

Instead, I see a window to get the fuck out. Or rather, to get Sarah the fuck out.

"You think my family's some—that it's run by mobsters?" I ask incredulously, taking a step back. "You're in my house." I point to my chest. "And you come here and insult me?"

"N-no, I didn't—I mean," she stammers and looks scared. "No, I didn't mean that."

I arch a brow. "What _did_ you mean, then?"

When she only offers some more jumbled stuttering, I suggest that she leave. I tell her, while I show her out the door, that I'm deeply offended by her implication.

Then I shut the door.

_That was too fucking easy_. I chuckle to myself, about to go back outside to join the party, but that's when I hear someone stumbling down the stairs. And as I leave the foyer, pass the kitchen, and look up the stairs, I see that it's Milo's girlfriend—Milo is Dee and Julia's driver.

Thinking fast, I take a few steps back and hide out in the kitchen. Only the light in the window is lit, so I'm pretty hidden in the shadows as she stops to look at herself in the mirror by the stairs. She fixes her hair and makeup, smiling to herself, and then she walks into the living room—on her way back to the terrace, I assume.

My gut instinct tells me to stick around for moment, 'cause I'm pretty fucking sure Uncle Jasper will be next to walk down…

About two minutes later, I see that I'm right.

_He wasn't screwing Aunt Alice in Dee's bedroom._

Uncle Jasper's technically my boss; he's the one I go to for direction and advice, but I can't exactly take this to him, now can I?

"Pops it is," I whisper to myself. It's been a minute or so since Jasper walked out, so I deem it's safe to follow. And I find my dad talking to Mom and my grandparents by the grill. They're also keeping an eye on the kids in the pool.

"There's my baby!" Mom cries out when she spots me. "Daddy told me you had a girl in your room." She looks so fucking happy, but then there's a pout on her lips. "Oh, wait. That didn't take long."

Dad gives me an I-understand-you smile. "Don't worry, _tesoro_. You're young. Stamina… These things—it gets better with age."

"What're you talkin' about?" I ask and bring out my smokes. Nonno hands me a lighter before I can use my own, and then he goes back to puffing on his cigar.

"Nothing." Mom grabs my attention by squeezing my hand. "Don't listen to Daddy. Look at you—so handsome." She fixes my tie. "You should've been here a few minutes ago." She makes goo-goo eyes at Dad. "Your father is the best dancer."

"Right." I can't say that I care about dancing to Frank Sinatra, who is my parents' favorite singer. "Actually, Pop, can I have a word? In private." I smile apologetically to my mother and grandparents.

Dad, who is on the drunk side, is not far away from jumping Mom—his own parents watching be damned.

"You can talk to me, too, honey," Mom says, looking concerned.

I grin and dip down to kiss her cheek. "I know, Ma. It's just something I wanna discuss with Dad—no big deal."

Nonno distracts her by taking the wine bottle from the side table next to the grill and refilling Mom's glass. And, thankfully, my father has snapped outta his "hummingbird" haze and tells me we can talk in his office.

I put out my smoke and follow him inside.

Once we're there, he closes the door behind us. "So, you and that little thing…" He walks over and faces me, curiosity in his eyes. "You two…?" He punches the air, causing me to laugh. "Ah, come on, son. Tell me!"

Yeah, I tell him everything, 'cause Pops and I are close, and he loves this shit. When I tell him about Sarah's assumption—about us being in the mafia—and how I turned it around, pretending to be insulted, Dad cracks the fuck up.

"Beautiful, beautiful!" he laughs and cups my cheeks. "Just _beautiful_. You sly little fuck." I grin as he gives each of my cheeks a kiss. "Now—" he leans back, half-sitting on his desk "—what did you wanna talk to me about?"

The humor is gone, and I puff out my cheeks, thinking about how to say this…or if I should. I know all about the code of silence, and my father is big on respect and only minding your own business. Still…didn't my uncle kinda make it our business by doing this shit here—in my father's house?

"Zio Jasper…" I hesitate and avert my eyes. "He was up in Dee's room a while ago…"

"Chin up," Pops says, and I look to him. He nods. "Always look me in the eye when you speak." He waves for me to go on. "Jasper was in Dominic's room…and?"

"He got his shit greased," I blurt out, then add, "And Zia Alice was nowhere near."

**Junior's POV**

"You're still my sweet boys," Mom gushes, one hand on my left cheek and the other hand on Alec's right cheek. "I will see you for church next Sunday?"

"_Certamente_," I promise and kiss her on the forehead. I also reach over to kiss Esme's cheek. "Youse take care now." We don't go to church every Sunday anymore, much to my mother's dismay, but I just don't have the time. So, we're not going tomorrow. But Isabella promised Mom and Esme we'd go next week. It's also so my wife can put flowers on Mrs. Coppoletta's grave. Next week, it'll be two years since cancer took her.

"We'll be there, Ma," Alec says.

"I'll see you two on Thursday," Pop tells us.

We nod in understanding, and after a few more kisses and hugs, we say goodbye to our parents and Esme. The barbecue's winding down and not many guests are left.

Making our way back to the backyard, I see Felix and Gianna preparing to leave, too. They're standing by the pool talking to Emmett and Rosalie, but there's one thing I gotta do before saying goodbye to them.

Jasper's sitting with Nico and another few friends of ours as I reach him.

"Can I have a word wit'chu, Jasper?" I jerk my chin toward the living room. "I haven't given you my birthday gift yet."

He chuckles and stands up, straightening his suit before he follows me back inside. Through the living room, down the hall to the right, past Isabella and my bedroom…then we reach my office.

Without missing a beat, I walk behind my desk and sit down. In the top drawer, I find the envelope of cash and hand it over to Jasper just as he sits down across from me.

"_Grazie, amico mio_," he says with a smirk.

"You're welcome." I lean back in my chair. "You've had a good day—a nice birthday?"

He nods, also getting comfortable. "Absolutely. Isabella's cooking…" He kisses the tips of his fingers.

"Yeah, you can't really get enough of that, can ya?" I sigh contentedly, thinking about getting another piece of cake once I'm done here. Isabella made it; she's good with all of it. Food, pastries… And this cake—_Madonn'_—chocolate, strawberries…rich and creamy.

"Our mother—God rest her soul—" he does the Sign of the Cross "—she taught Isabella everything she knew."

I know. "_E I tuoi ragazza…si sono divertiti anche loro oggi_?"

With so much going on today, I haven't really paid attention to the younger adults, including Nico, Lucia, Valentina, EJ, Joseph, Anna… There are just too many to keep track of, and the younger ones, they need our attention more. Well, unless we want them in the deep end of the pool without supervision. There are my own water monsters, Dominic and Julia, to keep my eyes on, and then there's Alec and Maria's one and only, AJ—he's nine… There's Theresa, Emmett and Rosalie's five-year-old…Brianna and Riley's own five-year-old is Olivia… Too many, and I didn't even mention half of 'em.

"Oh yeah, definitely." Jasper grins. "Sophia, my little baby…she's growing up too quickly. She'll be like Lucia soon, and then I won't be able to keep an eye on her."

I nod, fearing that part, too. While I want Elisa to go to college, like Lucia's doing in Los Angeles, I don't want her far away. I hope she'll find something close. 'Cause only seeing Lucia on a few weekends here and there…Jasper doesn't like it one bit, and I know I'd hate it, too.

"And you and Alice, you good?"

Jasper doesn't look happy, though he's trying to hide it. He's still angry at Alice for…something. "I thought you didn't wanna know."

"Consider tonight an exception. Go on." I'm not really asking.

After listening to what my Anthony had to say, I'm rather fucking pissed, but I'm hiding it behind a smile.

Jasper grimaces. "I'd actually prefer to keep it to myself."

I nod, pretending to accept that, and stand up. "Well, I'm glad you've had a good time tonight. Let's join the others again." Walking around my desk, I button my suit jacket. Jasper's just about to open the door when I stop him. "Just one thing."

"What?" He faces me fully.

"Whatever you do—" I pick invisible lint off his shoulder "—do not let this reach Felix and Emmett. That's their baby sister you're doing dirty. Am I wrong?"

His eyes widen.

I cock a brow, wondering why the _fuck_ people get so surprised that I _always_ find out what's going on—sooner or later. How many times am I gonna have to tell people, huh? _I. Have. Eyes. All. Over. Vegas_. One way or another, I find out.

"I love Alice—"

"Wrong answer."

"What goes on in my marriage—"

I cut him off again, nodding. "Is your business. Still." I point to my temple. "If it was my little sister…" I chuckle darkly, thinking about Brianna and Victoria. "What would you do if I cheated on Isabella?" His jaw clenches, fury clear in his eyes. "Exactly." I lean a little closer to make sure he understands his position. "We's been family for what—eighteen years now?" Jasper may be a couple years older than I am, but he still entered our family long after I did. I was born into this—I'm a fucking Maisano. "Now, you run your crew, I run mine… But remember who you're dealing with here, Savona." I grind my teeth together, struggling to remain calm. "That desk you sit behind at Dawn, it used to be mine." I take a small step back and smooth down the collar of his button-down. "You wanna fuck around on Alice? Do it where I can't see—where _Felix_ and _Emmett_ can't see. You don't come into _my_ house and stick your _shit_ into my kids' driver's girlfriend. You get what I'm saying?"

I could go on and on. He has no business fucking anybody where my wife can see, where my fucking _son_ can see…but I don't want Jasper to think Anthony's the one who came to me about this.

"I get it," he responds, anger behind his calm façade.

I nod. "_Bene_." Still pissed, I give his shoulder a squeeze hard enough to make him wince, but he's smart enough to keep his mouth shut. "Now we can go."


	14. Vendetta 4

**Special thanks to Lisa, Lexi, Francesca, and Kitty :)**

* * *

**Grand Vendetta**

**Chapter 4**

**Translation**

_Va tutto bene_? = Everything good?

_Se sospetta del suo stesso fratello...sarebbe un bello scimunito a venire a dirtelo in faccia_. = If he suspects his own brother…he'd be pretty fucking dumb to come out and say that to your face.

_Vorrei se potessi_. = Would if I could, my friend.

_Togliti l'asciugamano_. = Drop the towel.

_Mi sembra tanto una stronzata_. = That sounds like bullshit to my ears.

_Basta parlare_. = Enough talking.

**Junior's POV**

A couple weeks later, I find myself in Felix's office at his club; it's just Pop and me here with him.

"_Va tutto bene_?" I slap my hand to Felix's and then sit down in the chair next to my father. "You sounded weird on the phone." Leaning back in my seat, I unbutton my suit jacket and get comfortable.

Felix holds up a finger, silently telling me to wait, and a waitress comes in to give us our drinks. I nod in thanks and take a sip from my vodka.

Soon we're alone again, and Felix begins. "Emmett came to me yesterday." He gives Pop and me a pointed look, to which I curse and my father sighs heavily.

"Well, we figured this day was coming," Dad mutters and re-lights half a cigar.

I tilt my head at Felix. "What'd he say?"

"He told me he's got doubts the Cubans iced our father." He shrugs. "I listened to him, showed concern. What the fuck was I supposed to say? That you and I took care of him?" he chuckles, and I crack a grin. "Nah. I don't know. I told him I'd look into it, ask around. And I asked him if he had his own thoughts on the matta'."

"Does he?" Pop arches a brow. "_Se sospetta del suo stesso fratello...sarebbe un bello scimunito a venire a dirtelo in faccia_."

I nod slowly, agreeing with that. If Emmett suspects Felix is behind Carlisle's death, then he has to know that if Felix can ice his own father, he can pretty much also make his brother disappear. Blood relation means jack-shit if disloyalty comes into play.

"Honestly?" Felix sighs and sways a little in his desk chair. "I…" He looks pensive. "It's a possibility that he does suspect me, yeah. But he didn't say anything."

"So, what—" Whatever my dad was about to say is interrupted by Felix's phone ringing.

"Colucci," Felix barks into the receiver. His face softens a little at whomever's on the other line. "Well, hello, Mrs. Maisano." Since he glances at me at that, I assume it's Isabella calling and not my mother. He chuckles. "Yeah, you tracked him down—what's with the yelling in the background?"

I frown. Pressing my fingertips together, I wag them lightly toward my chest and mouth, "What's going on?" to Felix.

His brows knit together as he listens to whatever my wife says. Or more correctly, what she's shouting. That much I can hear; I just can't hear the exact words.

He purses his lips. "I get it, Isabella, but I'd still like it if you'd tell me." He pauses to listen; meanwhile, I'm growing impatient and worried. "_Cazzo_—is EJ there now?"

I lean forward in my seat and tap my foot against the floor.

"Okay, that's good." Felix nods. "Tell Anthony I wanna talk to him later. Talk to Junior, _cara_." Another pause. "You too. _Ciao_." He hands me the phone and says, "Everyone's okay—just listen."

Blowing out a breath, I bring the phone to my ear and try to will my heart to slow the fuck down. "Hummingbird?"

Unfortunately, I'm met with shouting, though it's not directed at me. "_No, the dark blue one!" _I have no idea where she is or what she's yelling about—or to whom. "_Anthony—Christ! It's your high school graduation, not a funeral!_" Okay, I remember. She's taking our oldest to get a new suit for his graduation in a few days, so I'm guessing they're at the tailor's right now. "_Ciccino, you there?"_

I nod even though she can't see me. "What's going on?"

_"I'm two minutes away from fallin' apart hea', Juniuh,"_ she says quickly, and I can hear a tremor in her voice. _"Anthony—I don't know if I wanna slap him or hug him."_ And before I can tell her both of those options are fine by me, she goes on. _"He got into a fight with EJ, and he won't tell me why—just some bullshit about sending a message? I don't know. I just wish—I just wish you'd fucking tell me, Anthony!" _Now she's shouting at our son again.

"Are you okay? Is Anthony all right?" I ask, and Isabella tells me they are, aside from a small cut on Anthony's left eyebrow. Again, I nod even though she can't see me. "Put him on, baby. Lemme talk to him."

"_Love you_." She sniffles.

"Don't cry," I tell her, turning my body away from Felix and Pop. "You hear me, hummingbird? _Ti amo_."

"_Yeah, okay_." I picture her nodding and holding her forehead. _"Anthony! Get ova' hea'—you father wans'ta talk to you."_

When Anthony takes the phone, I ask him how he is.

_"I'm fine,"_ he insists in a tone that tells me he's been asked about his well-being a lot in the past hour or…no matta'. _"Look, I saw EJ over by the Dunes. Mom picked me up there so we could come over here for this damn suit. I…" _He lets out a breath in frustration. _"The, uh, reception sucks."_ I can hear him just fine, but I know what he's trying to say; he can't discuss this over the phone. _"I'm gonna finish up here with Mom, and then I need to hand in that extra school project about Chicago."_ At that, my eyebrows shoot up, and I meet Felix's gaze; he's staring right back at me. Anthony certainly doesn't have a fucking school project to hand in this close to graduation, which means he's talking about the Outfit—the mafia in Chicago. _"Can we talk later?"_

"Absolutely, _tesoro_," I promise. "We'll talk at home. You stay around Mom now, you hear?" Not really knowing what's going on, I want him to make sure Isabella's safe. I make a mental note to tell Sal—my wife's driver—to be more alert.

_"I will."_

After disconnecting the call, I hand over the phone to Felix and ask, "Was Chicago mentioned when you spoke to Isabella?"

He nods. "She said something about it real quick while Anthony was shouting in the background. Does she know a lot? In general."

"More than I care to admit." I reach for my drink. "She grew up around this—her mother was a little too honest, if you know what I mean." It's both a blessing and a curse to have a perceptive wife. "I never give her details, but she's picked up a lot over the years, and I do share some stuff with her." It's my prerogative to do so, but regardless of how much or little I share, Isabella always knows a bit more than what I say, and that's all on her childhood. "She's sharp." I tap my temple, both proud and resigned. "Let's just say…" I huff a chuckle. "Speaking in code around her doesn't always work."

Felix laughs. "Well, thank fucking God my wife ain't all that bright."

I smile but say nothing, eager to get back on track now.

Thankfully, we do get back on track, and we agree to keep an eye on Emmett and his son for now. We'll talk more after we've sat down with my son, but one thing is sure: we don't wanna hear Emmett's name and the mention of the Outfit—the mafia in Chicago—in the same fucking sentence.

"Come over for dinner tonight," I suggest to Felix as we wrap up. I'd ask Pops, but he always says no, followed with a long spiel about how old he's getting. "It's been a while since only you and Francis stopped by."

"_Vorrei se potessi_." Felix squeezes my shoulder. "I'll be over in a couple hours—we can talk to Anthony." I nod. "But then I gotta show my face at home. Gianna's naggin'…fuck. Hey, ask your wife if she's got any more of those, uh—" scrambling for a word, he makes a small circle with the tips of his index finger and thumb pressed together "—what'd she call 'em? With the chocolate and the lemon icing."

I chuckle, nodding. "Ah, _pignolata_." A favorite of mine, too. "I'm sure she'll be happy to make them."

"Yeah, that's the name. _Madonn'_—you should have those at _Stella Mia_. I'd never leave the place."

"And then Gianna would miss your ugly face even more," I joke as we exit the office.

"A guy can never win!" he exclaims, slapping his hand to mine. "All right. Get outta hea'."

"See ya later," I respond, snickering.

**Hummingbird's POV**

When I leave the bathroom after my shower, I see that Junior's already in bed. Leaning back against the headboard, he watches the news on our 19-inch at the same time as he's got two newspapers on the bed—the _Las Vegas Sun _and the _New York Times_.

"How was your day today, _ciccino_?" I ask as I walk over to our closet. We never got to talk before dinner because Felix stopped by, and they—Anthony, too—disappeared into my husband's office. And then dinner…well, Julia and Dominic took care of conversation. With summer break only days away, it's like they're hyperaware and hyperactive.

"It was good," he responds from behind me. "_Togliti l'asciugamano_."

I chuckle and obey, seeing as I was about to drop the towel anyway. For good measure, I bend over and take extra long to pick out panties and a top. Hearing Junior's groan makes me smile. Finally, when I've chosen a pair of black silk panties and a matching camisole, I straighten up and get dressed.

"Um, so how was your day?"

"Stressful but okay," I say and walk over to the bed. Junior's already clearing it of various newspaper sections. "I took Julia to the dentist this morning—she needs braces." I sigh contentedly as I lean back against the headboard.

"What? That's fucking crazy." He scoffs. "Julia's got beautiful teeth. C'mea'—" he scoots down to the foot of the bed and pats the spot in front of him "—gimme your feet."

"Aw, you're so sweet, _ciccino_." I giggle and place my feet near his hands. Then I go for the small jar of night cream on my nightstand, and I can't help but moan when my husband starts to rub my left foot. Now, I'm not stupid. While Edward Anthony Maisano Junior can certainly do things just because he loves me, I still have a feeling this is one of his many ways to ask, _"Can you suck me off after?" _Or something like that. It's happened many times before. But if his question comes with a foot rub, I'm more than happy to oblige.

"Back to the dentist thing." Junior twirls a finger.

I nod and begin to work the too-expensive night cream into my face. But hey, it smells delicious, and it works. That's what matters. "She has that small gap between her two front teeth. You know that. And the dentist said it's gotten a little bigger—oh, _God_." My eyes nearly roll back when he cups my heel and applies pressure.

"_Mi sembra tanto una stronzata_," he mutters. "I want a second opinion."

I suck my teeth. "This _is_ the second opinion, remember? I took her three weeks ago; that dentist said the same thing, and you called bullshit—you demanded a second opinion. Well, this is it."

"Huh." He frowns, moving on to my other foot. "And you took her to a new guy?"

"Of course."

He grunts, which means he doesn't wanna admit shit.

"What's so wrong with it, anyway?" I gotta ask. "It's just braces."

He doesn't reply.

With a roll of my eyes, I let it go and ask, "What did Felix want earlier?" I only ask since Anthony was involved.

"That was nothing." He seems dismissive. "EJ's raising a lotta hell, and Felix wans'ta help."

"Just like that?" I cock a brow and return the night cream to my nightstand. "That doesn't sound like the Felix I know." Felix has a heart, mind you, but he rarely helps without wanting anything in return. The way of the fucking wise-guy. So, I can't really help but be suspicious. It's in my nature.

"Did Anthony get that suit?" Wow, he changed the topic fast, didn't he?

"Juniuh." I give him a look.

He grins and shakes his head no. "Quit it, baby."

I laugh when he dips down and bites my big toe, but I won't let this go so easily. Not when our son is involved. "Stop that, _ciccino_. Please—be straight with me now. Why does Felix care?" I narrow my eyes. "You're not getting our son into all that, are you? That thing—_your_ fucking thing. Not Anthony's, _capisce_?"

"Hummingbird." His eyes soften. "You really think—come on." He kisses the top of my feet. "Gimme more credit than that."

I stare at him, pouting a little. "Promise?"

"Listen, we're only sick of EJ running his mouth," he explains. "Anthony saw some shit today before you picked him up. He told us about it. That's it." Kneeling up on the bed, he wipes his hand clean. "Okay?" He crawls up my body. "You've got nothin' to worry about." I hum as he slides his nose along my cleavage, my fingers weaving through his soft hair. "_Mamma mia_, these gorgeous tits—look at 'em." He makes me giggle when he buries his face between them. "I love you."

I grin and say nothing. Until he looks up, then I say, "Oh, I thought you was talking to my tits."

He chuckles and dives for my breasts again. "Now she's being all funny, that wife of mine."

"Hey," I say softly, not wanting to get caught up in this before we're finished. "Today freaked me out, Junior." It really did. Sal and I pulled up at the Dunes—where we were picking up Anthony—right as the fists began to fly. My son and EJ were just going at it, right outside the hotel, and I had no idea what was going on. "Can you please reassure me a bit more? Is Anthony okay?" While our boy has no issue talking to me, he still prefers to talk to his father. And I definitely don't mind; the boys have their bond. I have mine with the girls. So, when Anthony told me he was okay—and I asked a lot—my plan was to go to Junior about it anyway. I gotta hear it from both of them.

"It's fine, hummingbird," he replies gently, looking into my eyes. "You know how those two are." I do. For some reason, EJ and Anthony hate each other, and I refuse to believe I'm the reason. Sure, EJ's eyes wander a lot, but come on. There's gotta be more to it. "Felix and I calmed him down, and you know he's okay physically."

Fine… "But what's this about Chicago then, huh?"

Anthony mentioned Chicago more than once, and he spoke in code over the phone when he was talking to Junior. Now, I'm well aware that our son knows about Junior's "job"—well, the gist of it; definitely not details. Hell, neither do I. So, Anthony knows all about the importance of not bringing up certain shit on the phone; however, as soon as Chicago was brought up, I got even more curious. And since he and EJ had been fighting outside the Dunes, of all places… Everyone knows that the Dunes used to "belong" to the Chicago Outfit. But then Steve Wynn bought the place earlier this year. Now it's just standing there—empty.

"I'm leaving you outta that," he says and kisses my nose. "Don't worry—I'm leaving Anthony out of it, too."

Well, as long as Anthony's not involved…

"Okay," I sigh, maybe a little reluctantly, but I know Junior's more than ready to close this subject. "_Basta parlare_."

"Thank God!" he laughs and presses his body against mine.

I squeal when he starts to suck on my neck. "Wait!" I suddenly remember something. The husband groans and rolls over onto his back, an arm thrown over his eyes. It makes me giggle. "It's nothing serious, _ciccino_." I lean over him and kiss his chin. "Just before I forget it. I need money for Anthony's graduation present. Leave me some before you go to _Stella_ tomorrow?"

"Oh! You shakin' me down, Isabella?" With a grin, he uncovers his face and throws that arm around my waist instead. "You want my money, huh?" He growls playfully and tries to roll me over, to which I slap his chest and laugh. My husband can be such a fucking goof. "You got it," he chuckles and flops back against the mattress. "What're we getting him? We gotta show we're proud of him—something big. And adult. He's a man now."

I answer while I straddle his sexy body. "A gold watch." My eyes roam his chest, his abs, and down…

My mouth follows.

"Good—that's…that's good." He groans when I tug on his sleep pants. Lifting his hips, I pull them down. His underwear, too. "Oh yeah, so good. _Cazzo, bell'uccellino_." I smile and kiss the base of his thick cock, teasing him a little. It doesn't take many seconds before he threads his fingers through my hair to guide my head down on him. "Suck me, baby."

_Oh, you got it._

Taking his cock—warm, smooth, and heavy—in my hand, I lower my mouth on him, humming all the way down. It's the way he loves it. I get him all wet, too, letting my tongue swirl around the head.

"That's it," he moans and bucks his hips. "So _deep_—fuck."

And when I cup his balls, twist them a little and squeeze, I have him panting in no time.

My free hand slides up his stomach to his chest, and I feel his muscles clenching and unclenching under my touch. I give his left nipple a small flick, to which he groans and digs his head back in the pillow. My blood-red nails scrape his skin; I hum around him again, and I watch as his chest heaves with each breath.

Every now and then, I suck out small drops of arousal from him, his salty flavor spreading in my mouth.

"Jesus Christ!" He fists the sheets as I speed up. "Oh, _baby_."

I see the muscles in his neck straining.

I suck him harder, tightening my lips around his cock.

And his balls… _Cup, twist, tug, caress._

Humming.

He spits out a curse.

Another few flicks over his nipples.

"There, Isabella," he grits out in warning. "I'm there…_ungh_…" And he starts coming, the first stream sliding down my throat quicker than the second one. A third, a smaller one, trickles down last.

He collapses, each muscle relaxing. "Fuck!" he gasps.

With a satisfied smile on my lips, I kiss my way up his body. He's wearing one of those lazy grins, though he's still a bit outta breath, and he's so fucking _cute_. Not that I'd ever say that to his face. Shit, he'd accuse me of emasculating him or something.

"_Madonn', mio bell'uccellino_." He palms my ass. "That was _some_…"

"Yeah?" I settle next to him, under the covers, and stifle a yawn.

"Yeah. Hell, yeah." He kisses my temple. "You want…?" A hand trails up my thigh.

Too tired, I respond, "No, tonight was about you, _ciccino_."

"Mmm." He hugs me tight to him. "Night, hummingbird."

I smile sleepily and snuggle closer. "Good night, Juniuh."

* * *

**The new stuff starts next chapter :) **


	15. Vendetta 5

**This is where the new shit begins! Well, from Anthony's _second_ POV. **

**Special thanks to Lisa, Lexi, Francesca, and Kitty :)**

* * *

**Grand Vendetta**

**Chapter 5**

**Translation**

_Ti va un goccetto, figliolo_? = You want a drink, son?

_Lui si vede con qualcuno_. = He's seeing someone.

_Non hai niente di cui preoccuparti, cara_. = You've got nothing to worry about, darling.

_Aw, pensa di essere innamorata_ = Aw, she thinks she's in love

_Dillo ancora = _Say that again

_Non osare dirmi di non preoccuparmi _= Don't you dare tell me not to worry

**Anthony's POV**

Sipping on my Coke, I keep my eyes on the broad giving me a lap dance—courtesy of my father. The stripper. Not the Coke. It was his personal gift for me after graduating high school today with straight A's. Make no mistake, the gold watch Mom and Dad gave me earlier…I really fucking appreciate it and love it, but this… Let's just say Pops knows me. And he's currently sitting in a booth over…somewhere…chilling and drinking with Felix, Alec, Jasper, and Emmett. I can hear their laughs, but I can't for the fucking life of me see 'em.

Maybe 'cause I got a set of tits in my face.

"Hey, you wanna go to a private room?" the broad asks breathily in my ear.

I shake my head no.

On any other night, sure. But tonight I just wanna chill with my family.

My parents threw me a huge party at home earlier—for Elisa, Dee, and Julia, too—and then shit got a little ugly between Uncle Jasper and Aunt Alice, so Mom suggested we all split up. Pops brought me here, and a bunch of the guys followed, and Mom is back at the house with the women. Gossiping and whatnot.

After slipping the stripper a fifty—today's given me plenty of envelopes, if you know what I mean—I stand up, adjust my cock, my suit, and then I walk over to where the guys are. Nico, Joseph, and Francis are there now, too, though they've pulled out chairs, so there's still room in the booth.

"Oh!" Dad grins as he spots me. "Look who's back." He claps me on the shoulder once I've slid in next to him. "_Ti va un goccetto, figliolo_?" He doesn't wait for a reply; he just pours me a shot of vodka, which means he's had a few himself. 'Cause Mom told him not to let me drink more tonight. I've already had a few at home, and my mother didn't want me _too_ wasted. "Just don't tell your mother," he chuckles.

I snicker as he hands out shots to all the guys.

"To my Anthony!" Pops declares with his glass raised. "Not only did he graduate a year early, but he did it with straight fuckin' A's!"

"_Salute_!"

"To Anthony!"

I'm kinda glad the club's so dark, 'cause I swear my cheeks feel all warm and shit. "Christ," I hiss, feeling the booze burn in my throat.

"So, what's next, kid?" Felix asks me. "You goin' to college like my Joseph ova' hea'?"

I glance over at Joseph, knowing how much he's hated law school. But he's done now. "Nah," I say and shake my head. "I think I'm going into the restaurant business." I'm actually looking forward to that. I'm good with numbers, and one of Dad's guys is gonna teach me the ropes over at _Stella_.

"You should move to Kansas City with me, cuz." Nico smirks.

I grin, shaking my head again. I was born and raised in the fucking desert. I like it here. But Nico's taking his wife and unborn child to settle down in Missouri. I don't really know what his job out there's gonna be; Pops hasn't said anything, so as far as I know, Nico's still in his crew. But I do know our family sometimes gets together with the Civellas in Kansas City.

"Fuck that." Dad points at Nico. "My son stays right hea'."

"You're taking my grandchild from me," Uncle Jasper grumbles as he shoots Nico a bitchy look.

"We need him in Missouri," Felix chuckles and squeezes Jasper's shoulder.

My uncle's a bit bitter these days. First Lucia decides to move permanently to LA, and now Nico's moving to Kansas City. Then, of course, there's that shit between him and Zia Alice. I don't think she knows what he's up to, but she sure as hell suspects.

To be honest, I think something big is going down soon. 'Cause Nico's not the only one getting outta Vegas. Aunt Brianna and Uncle Riley left for San Francisco yesterday, taking Colin and Olivia with them—some impromptu vacation. And Dad's saying that Mom is itching to visit Vinny and Giuliana out in Jersey, which I haven't heard her say _anything_ about.

"We should probably think about headin' home, son," Dad says. "We's got Nonna's birthday party tomorrow." I nod, remembering. Next week, there's also my father's birthday. Shit, with the size of our family, it feels like there's always a birthday party to attend. Although, Nonna's been feeling a bit ill over the past week, so tomorrow's just gonna be a small affair. "Alec—" he slaps his hand to my uncle's "—I'll see you tomorrow at Mom and Dad's."

After goodbyes and several more congratulations on graduating, Pops and I leave Dawn, and Carmine—Dad's new driver—drives us home. And that's another thing; my father usually drives himself. Only Mom, Elisa, Dee, and Julia have drivers. But I remember a couple times when I was a kid and the Feds searched our house… And there was one time when one of Felix's capos disappeared… Dad had a driver then, too.

~oOo~

We both grimace when we pull in to our driveway, 'cause we see too many cars for our liking. Aunt Alice is still here, and so is Esme, which I think is weird. She usually leaves with Nonno and Nonna since they all live outside of town.

"Here." Dad slips me some chewing gum before we enter the house. I grin and shove it into my mouth. "Don't give me that look." He's bitching with me now. "Your mother can be scary. Fucking excuse me if I don't want her to know I gave you vodka."

I'd laugh, but he would kick my ass. It's still true, though. If there's anyone my father fears, it's my mother when she's really pissed off.

"All right—let's see if we can get these ladies to get the fuck outta hea'," Dad mutters and wipes off his shoes on the welcome mat. Duke and Duchess come running, but they grow bored by the mere sight of us and mosey into the living room instead. "Isabella!"

"In the kitchen, _ciccino_!" she hollers.

So, we head to the kitchen, and I take off my suit jacket as we go, but we kinda stop short when we get there only to see my aunt crying her eyes out. Ma and Esme are on either side of Alice, all three at the kitchen island, and two empty wine bottles next to them. Now, I don't do tears. One, they annoy me. Two, it breaks my heart a little.

I avert my eyes, not wanting to see that shit. I already know what it's about anyway.

"What's wrong?" My father walks over to Mom; I can see 'em in my peripheral vision. He kisses her cheek, but his focus is sorta on Aunt Alice.

"My daughter here still believes Jasper's cheating on her," Esme says, stroking Alice's hair.

"I tell her she's wrong," Mom adds, but when I look up for a second, she doesn't seem too sure. "My brother loves you, Alice."

"Isabella's right," Dad states and touches Aunt Alice's cheek. "What'sa matta', huh? Where do you even get this shit from, hon? Jasper's a pussy for you—all he talks about." How my dad can lie so easily, I don't know. I fucking need that experience, that skill, 'cause right now I gotta look away.

Alice sniffles and shakes her head. "_Lui si vede con qualcuno_. I know it. He's never home—"

Pops interrupts. "You know his work hours," he points out. "He's got all those clubs to worry about. That ain't easy."

"Do you ever see him with anyone, Juniuh?" Mom looks up at Dad.

And Dad laughs. "You kiddin' me? Like he's got time for broads? Fuck that. He's always holed up in his office down at Dawn—or he's traveling to his spots in Reno and Carson City." He speaks to my aunt again, "You know what I think you should do? I think you should go home, take a bath or whatever, and calm down before Jasper gets home."

"_Non hai niente di cui preoccuparti, cara_," Esme soothes her daughter.

It takes a few more minutes, but in the end, Esme and Alice get ready to leave. Mom calls down Elisa, who appears with Sophia, Alice's daughter, and then we say goodbye to them.

"Jesus Christ," Pops groans when it's just the three of us again. Elisa went to bed a minute ago, and I think my father's itching to do the same, but Mom's got other plans.

As she cuts up some cake for us, she asks me, "So, how was it at Dawn? You there a lot?"

I exchange a look with Dad and then ask, "What do you mean?" It's always best to make sure what the other person's really referring to before I give answers.

She shrugs. "Just something that was mentioned to me. That you hang out at that club a lot." There may be shrugging involved, but something tells me she's anything but calm.

"Easy, baby." Dad pats her hand before digging into his cake. "Retract the claws."

"I just wanna know," Mom says defensively. She gives me a look. "You gonna tell me, or what?"

"Tell you what?" I play dumb.

"Oh!" She raises her hand as if to slap me, although she never does. This is just her way. What was once terrifying is now almost cute. Almost, 'cause I still respect her. Dad's not completely off when he says my mother can be scary. "Check you out." She scoffs. "You're acting like half a wise-guy."

"Isabella," Pops chuckles darkly and wipes his mouth with a napkin. "Don't start that shit. He's almost seventeen—"

"I know! Who do you think gave birth to him?!" she shouts, throwing up her hands. "Jesus Christ! I just wanna know if my son spends all his free time in a fucking strip club!"

"Ma—" I reach over to squeeze her hand; she needs to calm down "—I'm there sometimes, aight? Chill."

She huffs a breath in frustration and makes a choking motion with her hands. "Don't tell me to chill, you goddamn wackadoo."

I purse my lips, stifling my grin, and I can see that Dad's torn between anger and amusement as he stares at his plate.

"Are you done?" Pops asks her, cocking a brow.

She points at her chest. "Not until my dying breath!" With that, she storms out of the kitchen, muttering and cursing to herself. "High school graduate, straight A's, and lap dances… Juniuh's little juniuh…always with the strip clubs… Like father, like son…"

Smirking at my father, I say, "I don't think she sees me as her little angel no more."

"No shit." He snorts a laugh. "And this—" he points his fork to the cake we had earlier at the party "—is good fucking cake."

Trust my pops to have the last word.

Trust my pops to make sure it's about food.

**Junior's POV**

A little over a week later, I find myself in Felix's office at Twilight, anticipation running through my veins.

"I want you to follow him," he says.

I nod, eyes on the photo of Emmett in my hand. "Who took this? Riley?"

"Yes."

Makes sense. While most people think several of us are heading on vacations or moving, that couldn't be further from the truth. Brianna is in the Bahamas with the kids, but Riley's not there. He's been tailing Emmett for a month now, and Nico's on EJ's ass while Nico's wife is in Seattle. It's true; Nico and his wife will settle down in Kansas City soon, but not yet.

If this escalates, which I now firmly believe it will, Isabella and the kids are on the first flight to New York. Vinny and our guys out there will keep them safe. Or maybe, if she bitches a fit, I'll consider sending her off to the Bahamas, too. 'Cause I don't know how long this'll last, and I guess she'll appreciate Brianna's company.

"You shouldn't go alone," he advises.

"I know." I blow out a breath, thinking about my possibilities. Whomever I choose to bring…it's gonna be someone easily replaced—someone _disposable_. Felix only wants his closest to know about this—that includes my father and me—which is understandable, but it limits my options. Unless… "Can I bring my brother?" I arch a brow. Alec's nearly as close to Felix as I am; we can trust him—_I_ trust my brother with my life. But Felix is still a careful man.

Thankfully, though, he agrees this time.

~oOo~

When I get home, almost just in time for dinner, I find Isabella and Elisa in the kitchen. And once I've kissed and felt up my wife hello, I move on to say hello to Elisa, having missed her.

"_Mio angioletto_." I cup her cheeks. "Always so busy. Everything good?"

It may be summer now, but I feel like I hardly see her. Which is because she's in summer school. After watching her brother graduate a year early, Elisa now wants to do the same.

"It's all good." She smiles. "I'm doing this big paper on the American economy—_so_ boring, but…" She shrugs a little, still with that gorgeous Isabella smile on her lips. "I'm good."

"_Bene, bene_." I kiss both cheeks before letting go. "Where's my princess?"

"Out by the pool," Isabella answers, flitting back and forth between the stove and fridge. "Your mother's here, too." She gives me a quick smile before starting to chop up some fresh…I think it's oregano. "I'm so happy she's feeling better. She really gave us a scare."

I nod and walk over to take a sip from Isabella's wine glass. "I talked to Pop earlier." He'd been in Alec's deli when I stopped by after my meeting with Felix. "Ma's just gotta stop worrying about every little thing in this world." The day after my birthday dinner at _Stella Mia_ a few days ago, my father took my mother to the emergency room 'cause she was having chest pains. It really freaked me the fuck out, and I know my dad was scared outta his mind. The doctor said it was stress-related or some shit.

Now my wife is fussing over my mother, sending home meals and whatnot with my father whenever he stops by. Truth be told, I don't think Ma appreciates the cooking, though. Well, not the cooking per se; my wife is a goddess in the kitchen, but the fact that Isabella is taking over Mom's duties. However, she humors Isabella, because they have a great relationship, and I also think my mother likes it when she's at our house. After having four kids of her own, Mom misses the noise. And here she gets it and then some.

"Elisa baby, could you get Julia and Nonna for me?" I ask. I kinda need a minute alone to tell Isabella I'm going away for a few days.

"Sure thing, Daddy." She sets down the knife from slicing the mozzarella and then walks out with some weird skip in her step. Like she's cheery beyond words or something.

"What's up with her?" I lean my ass against the counter and refill the wine glass.

"_Aw, pensa di essere innamorata_." The wife is being all swoony; meanwhile, a scowl forms on my face. Elisa's too young to "think she's in love." Fuck that forever. "It's so cute, dontcha think?"

"Not really," I grunt, anger boiling in my chest. "Who the fuck should I kill?"

She sucks her teeth and lets her knife come down a little harder over the herbs. "Like I'd tell you. Please."

I glare at her. "Tell me, Isabella."

"Fuhgeddaboudit!"

"OH!" I slam my fist down on the counter. "_Watch it_," I grit out.

"I'm not saying a fucking word," she whispers menacingly and puts down the knife. "Jesus Christ, Juniuh. Give it a rest before we have to take _you_ to the hospital for chest pains."

"What the fuck did you just say?" I take a step toward her; she backs away, but I follow. Until I have her caged in in a corner. "_Dillo ancora._" I dare her to repeat that.

"You're pushing it, _Edward_." She sneers at me. "Don't I always tell you everything, huh?" She pokes my chest, but I'm quick to grip both her wrists. Tightly. "Stop being so obnoxious."

I grin sinisterly. "Now I'm obnoxious?"

"Yes," she spits out as I grip her wrists even harder. "Ow! It's just a fucking crush—give it a rest!"

My chest heaves as I stare her down; I'm completely in her face, our noses nearly touching.

"_Ciccino_," she whispers, her gaze suddenly softening. "What's the matta' wit'chu? You're wound so tight."

My brows knit together, and some of the anger fades away. It causes me to let go of her wrists, and when she slides her hands up my chest, I see the red marks from my hold.

I frown, feeling bad.

"Is everything all right with work?" she asks, still keeping it hushed and soft. Fuck, the way only she can make me relax… "Is there anything I can do?" My eyes close as she starts dropping little kisses on my jaw, my mouth. I take a shuddering breath. "Baby…"

Not ready to talk, I gather her wrists in my hands and kiss them, eyes still closed.

Maybe I am wound tight—I don't fucking know. Isabella knows my temper, my emotions, better than I do. I don't read into that shit. I'm smart, but I'd still consider myself a man of action instead of a thinker. So, I haven't really read into all this with Emmett and his son. Felix gives me an order; I execute. But…earlier, in his office at his club, I was goddamn enraged. I hid it well, and maybe it didn't even register—no matta'. Still, to see Emmett in that photo, talking to some guy from Chicago… It's like a flip of a switch; he's no longer family.

I don't know if this guy in the picture with Emmett really is from Chicago, but he did drive a car with Illinois plates. And when Emmett told Felix a couple days ago he'd be heading to Florida this weekend, it only made sense for us to follow, which I will with my brother. We'll just have to see if we do end up in Florida, or if we'll follow him to, say…Chicago.

"I'm sorry I was a prick," I sigh, resting my forehead to hers. "I overreacted."

I make a mental note to buy her some jewelry.

"No shit." She grins. "But you're _my_ prick."

I huff a chuckle.

"Seriously, is everything okay, though?"

I hesitate, which she sees.

"_Ciccino_…?"

"It's just a precaution," I start by saying, "but I might need to send you and kids on a vacation after the weekend."

There's panic, fear, anger, determination, resignation—all in that order—flashing in her eyes. "Is it worth arguing about?" she asks tightly.

I shake my head no.

"Is that what Brianna—I mean…are they on the same kind of vacation?"

"Yes," I admit. She releases a breath as I let go of her wrists. I stay close, though. "I'll find out more after the weekend."

Her eyes catch a little fire again. "You're going away on business," she states.

I nod. "But you've got nothing to-"

"_Non osare dirmi di non preoccuparmi_," she warns and points a finger at me. I cock a brow; she lowers it and huffs. "Don't tell me not to worry," she repeats. "You're my fucking husband—of course I worry!"

I nod again, accepting that, even though I doubt something bad'll happen. "I get it." I cup her cheeks and kiss her on the lips. "We'll talk more later, all right?" 'Cause I can hear my mother and two daughters in the living room.

"Fine. When are you leaving?"

"Tomorrow."

**Anthony's POV**

"Too early," Mom yawns, resting her head on Dad's chest.

Kinda hard to keep my eyes open…

_Honest, my bed is calling me._

And when Dad gets all touchy-feely with Ma, I don't _want_ to keep my eyes open. At one point, I swear I see his hand slipping inside her robe, this red silky thing that makes my Dad lose his shit.

_Vomit._

But then I'm saved by the doorbell…

"Go get the door," Dad says, jerking his chin at me. "It's Alec."

I yawn and walk out of the kitchen, scratching my balls as I go, and wish could get the fuck back to sleep. I mean, come on. It's four in the morning. It's not normal to get up at this hour.

Opening the door, I see a tracksuit-wearing Alec standing there, looking like he's just as tired as I am.

"Hey, kid." He kisses my cheek. "What the fuck're you doin' up, huh?"

"Pop wants a word wit' me before you go." I shrug; then we walk back to the kitchen. And Julia happens to be there now, too. Not that I'm surprised. She wakes up from the littlest noise, and now she's on Dad's lap, seated at the kitchen island.

Mom is, also unsurprisingly, more covered up. She's still in her robe, but it sure ain't loose on her now; Dad makes sure of that. God forbid if anyone saw an inch too much skin of his _hummingbird_.

"Morning," Alec says, shaking Dad's hand. My little sister is a second away from falling asleep in his lap, but she goes wherever life is. I know she won't go back to bed until Dad and Uncle Alec leave.

"Good morning," Dad returns.

After kissing Ma's cheek, Alec sits down across from Pops. I sit down next to Alec.

"I spoke to Riley—we're good on time." He's referring to Uncle Emmett's house, I think. Maybe that it's still dark—no lights on.

Yesterday, my father filled me in a bit more on what's going on.

I just hope he won't send _me_ off on a vacation. I'd rather stay behind and help out. I'm a man now, for Christ's sake.

"_Bene_." Dad's being all sweet, playing with Julia's messy hair and kissing her forehead.

"Espresso, Alec?" Mom offers.

"Oh—_please_." My uncle looks like he's ready to beg.

Pops chuckles and holds up his own cup. "My third one so far. Before I go, I want my heart racing."

"_Daddyyy_," Julia whines. "Get back to it." She places his hand on the top of her head. I can't help but grin, and Dad, so whipped, obeys my _piccolina_.

"Here you go." Ma gives them espresso. "I made breakfast and lunch for you two. Will you please bring it?"

"_Certamente_. _Grazie mille, mio bell'uccellino_."

"Don't have to twist my arm, hon." Uncle Alec smirks.

And then my mother and uncle start talking about food for a little while. _Madonn'_, the way those two can go at it. Just 'cause Ma's got _Stella_ and Alec's got the best deli in Vegas… They scoff about Americans butchering the food the Italians brought to this country. Beverages, too, like coffee. Even Dad tunes out. He eats the food and drinks the coffee; he doesn't talk about it.

In the end, though, Dad announces it's time to go. With a slap to Julia's butt, he sends her off to bed again, and then he stands up, ready to leave.

When we're all standing in the driveway, he squeezes Mom to him, and she stays strong. She threatens his balls if he doesn't come back. How that works, I don't know, but it does for them, I guess. Or her.

Ma's gonna do what she always does when Pops goes away on business and she doesn't know for sure when he'll return. She's gonna clean, fuss over her children extra much, and go to church. She'll clear out all our closets and donate the clothes to less fortunate, in an attempt to be a better citizen or some shit, and then when Dad comes home, she's going to complain that we don't have any clothes, which leads to a major shopping spree.

It's her routine unless she knows for sure when he's expected to be back.

Dad thinks it's cute and often leaves extra wads of cash in her purse.

I find it annoying, 'cause he's not here when Mom goes nuts. And it's like his name suddenly will get longer. Whenever he's mentioned and he's outta town, it comes with a "God bless him". And don't get me started on how many times she does the Sign of the Cross.

She never cries, her smile doesn't falter, and there's not a hair outta place when Dad's gone. But there's still something lacking in her eyes or whatever.

I think she saves the drama for when Pops gets home.

Regardless, this isn't a big thing. It happens occasionally, maybe once or twice a month. So, after some more kissing and cursing, Mom goes back inside, and Alec gets behind the wheel of his car.

Dad, always dressed in a suit, brings out a comb and quickly runs it through his hair. "You know what this means, son?" He stands close and cups my neck.

I nod. "Yes, sir. I'll look out for her—them. I promise."

He nods, too. "Little by little, I'm letting you in."

Elation courses through my body, though I remain stone-faced.

"You'll have Carmine, Sal, and Milo here, too," he says, speaking of our drivers. "And Nonno, Zio Jasper, and Felix will stop by—say hello, check in, no matta'. I'm trusting you."

"Okay."

"And you know your way around my office." He gives me a pointed look.

I swallow and nod, knowing what he means. I know where there're unregistered guns. And money if I need it.

"_Eccellente_." He smiles kisses my cheeks. "Be good—I love you, _tesoro_."

Another nod from me. "You too."

His smile widens, and with a light slap on my cheek, he turns and walks toward Uncle Alec's car.

I watch them drive away, feeling a big responsibility beginning to weigh down on my shoulders; however, I like it. I wanna earn it all.


	16. Vendetta 6

**Special thanks to Lisa, Lexi, Francesca, and Kitty :)**

* * *

**Grand Vendetta**

**Chapter 6**

**Mob Trivia:**

The bit about the Civellas, the crime family in Kansas City, is true. _Junior: The acting boss of the Kansas City crime family is Willie—William Cammisano, Sr.—but everyone knows Tony Civella's running the show. It's just that he's doing a bid now for reselling stolen goods._

**Translation**

_Non fare lo spiritoso con me, ragazzo = _Don't get smart with me, son

_Ma stai zitto = _Shut up

_Dillo a Mammina = _Talk to Mommy

_Posso sempre uscire e parlargli_ = I can always go out and talk to him

**Junior's POV**

"Finally!" My fist comes down on the dashboard when we at _last_ see Emmett's car pull out of his driveway. We were beginning to wonder if we'd missed him, 'cause it's seven AM now, which means I've been holed up in this car for almost three hours already.

Alec starts our car to follow, and we pass Riley first. His job is done—well, once he's reported to Felix that Emmett took off alone.

"Aw, what'd you do that for?" Alec complains.

Confused, I tilt my head in his direction but keep wiping off crumbs from my suit. Yeah, that breakfast and lunch Isabella sent with us—gone. And the box of pastries is half-empty.

"This is a new car, Junior!"

I snort and wave him off. "You bought it only to sell it. Chill." Reaching into my inner pocket, I pull out my smokes and light one up. "Or are ya gonna drive a car which Emmett can be all, 'Yo, didn't I see that one in Chicago?' Think about it, little brother." I tap my temple.

"Still," he grumbles. "You just lowered the fucking value by eating like a pig."

"Oh!" I shout, wanting to laugh. My brother's being a cunt. "Here—" I bring out a c-note from my wallet "—have it cleaned. Jesus Christ."

I'd like to say this'll be the first and last bitch fit my brother throws while we're on the road together, but that'd be a lie. We just happen to bring out the worst in each other, and yeah, maybe I bitch at him, too. God bless our mother for putting up with us when we were kids.

"If he's really heading for Florida, he should take the next exit," I muse a while later.

Only, Emmett doesn't.

After several hours on the road and a couple stops for gas and food, it's abundantly clear that our second cousin is on his way to Chicago. And since he's told everyone he'd be in Florida… _Talk about raising suspicion_.

Taking a pull from my smoke, I watch as he changes cars again.

Alec and I have done the same. One car per state, basically.

We talk briefly about why he didn't just take a flight, but our guesses are as good as any. Perhaps he simply doesn't want a single trace, and then a car is the way to go. But if I were him? I'd drive toward Florida until I reached, I don't fucking know, maybe New Mexico. And then I'd use fake papers to get a flight from there to Chicago.

Unless he's got something in his trunk…

When we reach Lincoln, Nebraska, after a whopping fourteen motherfucking hours on the road, Emmett finally pulls in to a motel.

"I think it's safe to say he's in a hurry to get to Illinois," I mutter as I get out of the car. My back pops and my knees protest, reminding me that I'm not in my fucking twenties anymore. Shit, I'm forty-one now. "Get us a room, Alec." A yawn slips out. "I'm gonna go over there—" I point to a pay phone "—and give Felix a call."

"You got it."

~oOo~

_"You're already halfway?"_ Felix asks incredulously.

I shrug to myself, keeping an eye out. "He didn't stop until now," I yawn and put another couple dimes into the machine.

Judging by Emmett's anxiousness to reach Chicago, I'd even go so far as to say we'll leave here soon, too. My brother and I will sleep in shifts, and as soon as Emmett goes, we go.

_"Has he met anyone along the way?"_

"No. Not even a phone call."

_"Huh…"_

"Listen, I'm gonna check in with my family," I say, scrubbing a hand over my face. "I'll call as soon as I have news." Felix disconnects the call; I dial my house. And I'm glad to hear Anthony answering the phone. "Is everything okay, _tesoro_?"

_"Yeah," _he says casually. _"EJ stopped by for dinner."_ I tense up, hoping my son can explain as much as possible over the phone. _"He was looking for you—needed to talk to you."_

I pinch the bridge of my nose. That EJ comes over isn't unusual; we're all family. And he loves Isabella—a bit too much. However, he rarely comes to see _me_. Since he's not a full-blooded Italian, it's not like he'll get his button one day, so Emmett's taking care of him. EJ's a low-man, a fucking nobody, although Emmett keeps him close. Too close.

"What'd you tell him?" I ask calmly.

He keeps his tone casual, and I'm damn proud of him. He's got nerves of steel. _"That you're on your way to Nico—like you are."_ Which means Kansas City. That's good. _"Felix was here, too."_ I nod, knowing that Felix will clear our story with Tony and Willie down in Missouri. The acting boss of the Kansas City crime family is Willie—William Cammisano, Sr.—but everyone knows Tony Civella's running the show. It's just that he's doing a bid now for reselling stolen goods. I reckon he'll be out in a few years.

"And how's Isabella?"

Anthony groans. _"Dad, she's killing me. It's like she don't have all her marbles—"_

"Ay! That's your mother you're talking about!" I shout furiously. "_Non fare lo spiritoso con me, ragazzo_. Am I getting through to you, huh?" Disrespectful little fucker!

_"You're not here,"_ he whispers. _"I'm telling you—she's a hurricane when you're gone. It hasn't even been twenty-four hours and she's already donated all our clothes to charity."_

I chuckle darkly. "Fucking humor her. You hear me?" I could've ended up with a wife who whined and threw tantrums. I'm counting my goddamn blessings here. "If it'll keep her busy… Just let her do her shit, all right?"

_"Fine,"_ he grumbles. _"I just wish she wasn't so fucking—"_

"Another goddamn word outta you…" I trail off in my warning, seething. "I swear to Christ, Anthony. Wise up."

_"Okay, okay—I'm sorry." _Now he's all sullen, reminding me that he's not a full-grown adult just yet.

I smirk and light up a smoke. "No, but you will be when I give Sal the day off, and _you_ get to drive your motha'round to buy new clothes."

He doesn't respond, finally knowing what's best for him.

~oOo~

Alec and I reach Chicago late the next afternoon.

"I think he'd heading for the docks," Alec mutters, maneuvering us through the traffic. "Look—" he points "—he's following every sign."

I think he's right.

"Take us as close as possible," I say, opening the glove box to take out the camera. I doubt Felix will need them, the photos; the fact that Emmett is here speaks volumes. Especially since he told everyone he'd be in Florida.

"What did Felix say earlier, by the way? That was him you spoke to this morning, right?"

I nod slowly, eyes focused on Emmett's car. "He said that if Emmett went fishing up here, he might as well spend some extra time in the lake." Felix and I have already discussed this, back in Vegas, and if Alec and I get evidence of Emmett dealing with the Chicago mafia—the Outfit—Felix doesn't want his brother to make it back. "He wants Emmett to be found, but not yet." And if we dump Emmett's body in Lake Michigan, we will make it home long before he's found.

Fingers won't be pointed our way since no one knows we're here.

And a Colucci in Chicago… The authorities will assume the Outfit's behind it. Makes sense. Plus, if we kill Emmett in Vegas, there's a bigger chance of our guys getting antsy, wondering if there's beef within the family, or if another family's moving in. When the management is shaky, the rest will grow unstable, too.

"Another fucking funeral to go to," Alec grumbles, being a bitch. "It's only been months since our friend in St. Louis died and we all had to go pay our respects."

I roll my eyes, though I can't help but chuckle. I remember when my hummingbird told me there's one thing a wise-guy's wife can't have too many of, and that's black dresses.

"You're as dramatic as Isabella," I say wryly. "No—actually, you're fucking worse. You must've gotten that from Ma."

"_Ma stai zitto_!"

"OH!" I laugh and nod. "Snappy comeback."

Little brothers, huh?

**Hummingbird's POV**

"Can I go now, Mama?" Dominic asks, dumping his plate in the sink.

I suck my teeth, fearing my kids will be the death of my china. "Yeah, just go." He's being all pissy just 'cause I did a good deed and donated some clothes. Turning back to Giuliana, I say, "Juniuh—God bless him—would kick his ass if he was here." Dominic hears this and comes over to kiss my cheek, tell me he loves me, before he leaves. "Nice try, _topolino_." I smirk and watch as he hightails it outta the kitchen. Now I know he's scared I'm gonna call his father and rat him out about the lack of respect.

"My son was the same at that age," Giuliana chuckles.

She flew in this morning unannounced, and then Felix came over and told me that Vinny's having some issues in Jersey, hence shipping off the wife. I definitely don't mind; Giuliana's very nice, like an older sister even though she's closer to Elizabeth and Esme in age.

"Hey, Mom?" Elisa enters the kitchen. "Can I sleep over at Amanda's house tonight?"

I shake my head no and refill my wine glass. "We have church tomorrow, baby. Then, afterwards, we'll have lunch hea'."

She pouts, sighs, slumps her shoulders, and sits down next to me by the kitchen island. Giuliana smiles at her, seated on the other side of the island, and I've already told her about Elisa's crush on Junior's driver. Giuliana and I think it's so cute, and if Elisa wasn't here right now, I'm sure we would've talked more about it.

"Why so blue?" I rub her back. "Something wrong?"

She shrugs dejectedly. "I dunno. Just trying to get away from the house as much as possible?"

Giuliana and I exchange knowing looks and smirks.

"Oh, honey." I pout. "_Dillo a Mammina_. Tell me what's bothering you exactly. Maybe Giuliana and I can help."

"You already know what it is." She reaches for the snack plate and stabs an olive with a toothpick. "He's so hot, I could just die."

"Cawmine?" I smile, already knowing the answer. She nods and juts out her bottom lip. "Did something happen? I mean, you were so happy earlier." Still rubbing Elisa's back, I face Giuliana. "You remember those times? When a crush was like—more important than spitting on Mussolini's body?" My nonno's brother actually did that.

Giuliana laughs. "Oh, I sure remember. Your heart was racing—so much anxiety. Over just a boy."

I take a sip from my wine, remembering my first crush. If only I could remember his name! "You know my parents moved a lot." She nods. "Well, one of the times we lived in Brooklyn, I was out with my friends raising hell and being up to no good." I sigh dreamily at the memory of his godly looks. "We were in Bay Ridge—" I nod to myself "—and I saw this guy. _Mannaggia_, he was so handsome…"

"What was his name?" Elisa asks, intrigued.

I chuckle and place a hand on my chest. "I wish I remembered! His last name…" I chew on my lip, frowning. I cannot believe I've forgotten. Then, suddenly, his last name comes to me. "Cullen!" I nod, nod, nod. "He always ran with that Misone guy—attached to the hip."

"Marcus Misone?" Giuliana grins wryly and rolls her eyes.

Yeah, the irony. I know Misone is the reason Giuliana is here. Marcus Misone controls New York now—according to my husband—and he apparently hates Jersey, which means Vinny. I don't get involved. That's just the little bit Junior's told me. Honestly, Junior isn't all that invested, either. He doesn't like Marcus' way of running things—I don't know. Sometimes my husband just mumbles stuff to me, like he wants to get it out, and then when I look like a question mark or offer the normal, "Is there anything I can do?" he just grins, shakes his head, and says, "No matta', hummingbird."

"Time flies," I sigh, thinking about the old days again. Then I giggle, feeling like some teenager. "He winked at me once. Cullen, not Misone." Last I heard, Cullen's married and has two young boys about Julia's age. "I wonder if Marcus ever settled down," I muse. "When I was young, he was still shaking down pizzerias and taking bets." Good times.

"He's married." Giuliana nods. "He's got a baby girl, too."

"Huh." I purse my lips…and then grin. "He was handsome, too, but he was no Cullen! I swear—" my fist comes down on the table "—had Juniuh not been hotter, I mighta been on the next flight to New York." I burst out in giggles again, and maybe I've had enough wine.

"Mom—you're so cute and silly." Elisa grins and pinches my cheek.

I laugh and bat her away. "Shut up. We got off track. Now you go." I point to her. "Did Cawmine do something to leave you with that sad face you had earlier?" I cock a brow. "_Posso sempre uscire e parlargli_."

"No!" she shouts, horrified. "Jesus, Mom! Don't ever—God, don't talk to him. Promise me you won't."

"I'll promise no such thing." I know exactly what's on boys' minds. Carmine's a good-looking kid, and he's only nineteen years old. My Elisa is too good for him unless he wants to do right by her.

"I just…" She huffs. "We kissed, all right?"

"No!" My eyes widen and I cup my cheeks.

"Yeah," she grumbles, "and it was—I saw stars. But then he ruined it by saying that he wans'ta talk to Daddy about dating me."

"Oh, but that's so good!" I exclaim. Maybe this means Carmine's one of the good ones. "I'm so happy for you," I gush, feeling a bit emotional. Waving a hand in front of my face, I take a huge gulp of my wine and try to settle down. "Look at my baby girl, Giuliana." I grip Elisa's chin. "She's growing up."

"Christ—don't you see?" Elisa hisses. "Dad's gonna kill Carmine."

_Oh_. Yeah, I nod solemnly. "I can see that happening." No, I can't. But he will rough the boy up. Thoroughly. With a long list of threats. And he won't approve—he'll say Elisa's too young. "Well…" I kiss Elisa's forehead. "God gave you my eyes—use them on Daddy. You're his _angioletto_."

I can see hope in her eyes and she's about to say something, but Anthony walks into the kitchen. And that means we shut up. I've come to realize just how much of a hero Junior is in Anthony's eyes, and that evidently entails telling his father everything he hears around here—in detail.

"Ma, have you seen my suit—the Prada one?" He scratches his nose and opens the fridge.

"I donated it." It's not like he uses it all that often. Besides, it was almost too small.

"Of course you did," he mutters behind the fridge door.

"What was that?" I cup my ear, annoyed. "Do you have a problem or something?"

Here I am, trying to be a good citizen, a good American, a good Catholic, and all I get is this?

"Nope, no problem." He gives me a sweet smile that looks strained and kisses my cheek. "I'm gonna head over to _Stella_. Felix and Nonno want to talk to me."

I narrow my eyes.

Why would they need to talk to my son, huh?

At _Stella_, no less.

"Carmine and Sal are still around—right outside," Anthony adds. "I'll be back for dinner."

I look to Giuliana, and she seems to understand what I'm thinking.

"What's wrong, Mom?" Elisa asks.

I frown, deciding to keep quiet for now. I could just be reading into things too much. Besides, Junior promised me he wouldn't involve our children in his business.

"Nothing." I put a smile on my face. "Nothing's wrong." I hope.

Luckily, Alice shows up, and that means I get the distraction I need.

She looks happy for once. Actually, she looks beaming.

"I was in the neighborhood," she explains as I bring out a new bottle of wine and a glass for her. "Thought I'd stop by." She shrugs with a smile.

"Can I also have some wine, please?" Elisa bats her lashes at me.

I wave a hand. "One glass." Then I turn to Alice again, beyond curious about this turn of events. "You look so happy." I squeeze her hand.

She nods, eyes lighting up. "You have no idea."

"So, tell us!" Giuliana looks like she's ready to burst, too.

"Did you and Jasper work things out?" I ask, hopeful.

To be perfectly honest, I've doubted my brother. Junior swears Jasper hasn't strayed, but I don't know. My husband knows that if he told me Jasper's been cheating, I would go nuts. It may be common in our world, but I would still be so incredibly disappointed in him. So, I get that Junior keeps quiet, regardless of what the truth really is. 'Cause he hates drama, and this doesn't _really_ concern me.

"Oh yeah, that too." Alice nods. "We're good, I guess."

I stare at her. "What's that supposed to mean? 'That, too.' Is there something else?"

"Huh?" She looks dazed. "Oh! Um, no…that's it." She's nodding too much for that to be true. "I'm just excited Jasper and I are good again."

"You're lying," Giuliana states, and I nod to that.

"I'm not!" Alice defends. "Jasper and I worked things out, and now I'm back in the game—happy."

I give her a dubious look. She really does seem happy, more than that, actually, but I think there's something else. It was just the way she phrased herself in the beginning.

"Mrs. Savona." Alice's driver comes in to the kitchen. "Sorry, Mrs. Maisano—your son let me in."

"Oh, don't apologize, Tommy," I say with a smile. "Are you hungry?" It's my standard question.

He shakes his head, acting like he's scared to look us in the eye. I can only imagine what our husbands tell our drivers. "Thank you, but I only came to drop this off. Mrs. Savona, you left it in the car." He leaves a small paper bag on the counter. "Would you like me to wait outside?"

Alice grins. "No, that's okay, Tommy. I'll call you when I'm ready to leave."

Tommy nods, and then he gets out.

I don't miss how Alice watches his ass, so I can't help but smirk.

"Damn, he's fine," Giuliana mutters, to which Elisa and I crack up. "I'm serious! You got lucky with that one, Alice. Vinny only assign these old and fat men to me." She makes a farting noise with her mouth.

"How much wine have you two had already?" Alice giggles at us. "Looks like I've got some catching up to do!"

"Well, let's take this out to the patio instead," I suggest. I can hear Julia stomping around upstairs, and my guess is that she's done with her movie. She can only sit still for a small amount of time before she wants to do something else. The pool is her favorite, so this'll be good. She can swim, and I can keep an eye on her.

Soon, we're all gathered outside, and I love this. It all keeps me from going insane when my husband is away.

I do the Sign of the Cross for good measure.

"Thinking about Daddy again?" Elisa asks knowingly.

I nod and touch her cheek. "I love you." I won't cry.

"You always get mushy when he's not home," she chuckles. "But I love you, too."

I roll my eyes, though I can't hide my smile. "Glad to hear it. Okay. Distract me, ladies. Gimme some juicy gossip!"


	17. Vendetta 7

**Special thanks to Lisa, Lexi, Francesca, and Kitty!**

**And thank you all SO much for the reviews; I love reading rants about Jasper, theories about Emmett, opinions about Anthony joining the business, and your LOL's when Isabella gets going with her wine-induced ramblings ;)**

* * *

**Grand Vendetta**

**Chapter 7**

**Translation**

_Ne sarei onorato = _I'd be honored

_Eccellente! Allora è deciso_ = Excellent! It's settled

_Non sei niente, Maisano_ = You're nothing, Maisano

_Dio—mi hai fatto preoccupare!_ = God—you had me worried!

**Anthony's POV**

Parking behind _Stella_, I see EJ, that fuck, smoking a cigarette by the back door to the restaurant. He's also chatting up Gabriella, Enzo Sindone's daughter and my sister's best friend, and it doesn't look like she's enjoying it. She's a year younger than I am, which means she's six, almost seven, years younger than EJ.

"Yo!" I jerk my chin at them and approach after locking up my car. Safe to say, EJ's annoyed I showed up. He probably thinks Gabriella would give him the time of day, but he couldn't be more wrong. She's one the good ones—the good little girls. Cute, short, chubby, quiet. She's Enzo's angel—like Elisa's my father's. Only, Gabriella doesn't pull shit behind her father's back. Instead she comes here to bring Enzo lunch, dinner—whatever her mother tells her to.

"What'chu doin' here?" EJ asks, sneering.

Flinching toward him, I smirk when I see him shrink back in an automatic response. Make no mistake, he can throw a mean punch, and he's not just fucking around. But…instinct still tells him I'd be the one who ends on top.

I ignore him and turn to Gabriella instead. "You okay, hon?" She's looking down, so I tilt up her chin and raise my brow in question.

"Um, y-yes," she stammers, blushing. "Emmett Junior was just—"

I cut her off, knowing she's going to defend him—make up some excuse. "You don't have to explain." I smile and take a step back.

"I offered her a smoke," EJ says with a smirk.

_Yeah, like Gabriella smokes. Please._

"Smoke this." I grab my junk and laugh. "What the fuck're you doing here, anyway? You takin' a break from running Daddy's errands—counting his chips?" I've lost count of the hotels and casinos Emmett dips his fingers into, running scams, but I do know he's a top earner.

"Fuck you," he spits out. "My uncle's here—he wants to talk to me." He's speaking about Felix.

"I-I should—" Gabriella points to the door, and I had forgotten she was still here. "Um."

"Right." I open the door for her. As she scurries past me, I gently grip her elbow and lean down, keeping my voice low. "Sorry you had to see that, by the way." I grew up with this girl; our parents are pretty close. If this gets back to my mother—about how I acted in front of Gabriella…

"It's okay," she whispers in a rush, staring into my eyes like she's in some daze. She pushes some of her dark, loose curls away from her face, completely flustered and fumbling.

My brows furrow, and I kinda wonder if she's always had those flecks of gold in her brown eyes. Or those freckles on her nose.

Or…shit, those are new. Um, her tits.

I avert my eyes, totally caught off guard. I've never checked her out before—fuck. Why the hell would I? She's always been the clumsy little chubby girl who lives a few streets away from me. She's friends with Elisa—has spent a shitload of time at our house over the years. But I mean…why check out cute and wholesome when you've got naked and willing at Dawn, right?

Right.

_Fuck this._

I give her a smirk and walk into the restaurant, shaking my head at myself.

She's still all those things I mentioned. Only now she's got a set of big tits and a gorgeous face. _Whatever_. I don't go after good girls. That's what my father did. He's told me Mom was a good girl. Not that I'd think so, 'cause she's a ball-buster now. But I guess that's Pops' doing.

Brushing the past five minutes off me, I walk briskly through the halls, passing the kitchen, Pops' office, all the storage rooms, and finally end up in the main dining area. This is usually where I find our guys unless there's a sit-down. There's a smaller, more private dining room for that.

"Anthony!" Felix grins; he's seated in a booth with Joseph—his oldest—and my grandfather. "You didn't see my nephew by any chance?"

I nod. "I saw him." Leaning down, I kiss Nonno's cheek and then shake Felix's hand. "He's out back," I add as I slide in next to Joseph. "'Sup?"

We bump fists. "All good—you?"

"Can't complain." I face Felix and Nonno again. "So…" I kinda wanna get back to the house as soon as possible. Dad told me to keep an eye on things while he's gone, and while I trust Sal and Carmine, they're not the ones who got the order.

"There's no rush, kid," Felix chuckles, waving over a waitress. "Your mother dropped off a new recipe here a couple days ago. You tried the clams yet?"

"Of course he has," Nonno laughs. "Anthony and Junior get front-row seats to Isabella's cooking. My precious daughter-in-law—God bless her for putting up with youse."

I just smile.

Truth is, it's a big fucking deal to be meeting with Felix like this. At home, when it's someone's birthday…whatever, that's nothing. But this—I'm just a low-man, and to meet with the boss? Yeah, that doesn't happen to everyone.

"How is it working for your father instead of Jasper?" Felix asks me once we've all placed our orders. "Is there any difference?"

"Yeah, there are differences." I nod slowly. I was mainly Uncle Jasper's errand boy, but with Dad…I'm on security detail, I like to call it. He wouldn't trust just anybody with the girls in his life, so it matters a lot that he puts so much faith in me—even though I'm technically far from alone. Sal, Milo, and Carmine are there, too. "I like it, though."

"That's good," he comments as the waitress brings our drinks. I don't miss how Felix eyes the woman, and I think they have a relationship; I've seen her come and go over at Felix's club. My father always tells me to keep my eyes open and mouth shut. I study, I learn. You can't learn if your mouth is running—gotta keep focus and all that.

Once the waitress is gone, Felix turns to me and smiles. "Would you like to work for me instead?"

It's not really a question. When the boss asks you to do something, you agree. "_Ne sarei onorato_." It's the truth—it _is_ an honor. Even if I get some shitty position, working under Felix is a promotion. And, truth be told, since Felix and my dad are so close, it wouldn't surprise me if the two have already talked this over.

"_Eccellente! Allora è deciso_." He tips his scotch in my direction before taking a sip. In my periphery, I see EJ walking in—at last. "And here's my nephew!"

Joseph gives me a small nudge with his elbow. "Pop wants you to pay attention now," he whispers.

I nod with a dip of my chin, never looking in his direction.

EJ pulls over a chair and sits down at the head of the table after greeting Felix and Nonno, and some insignificant chit-chat follows. Felix asks about Rosalie, Teresa—Rosalie and Emmett's five-year-old—and Anna, their oldest. And then he asks the question that ends the bullshit. "I hear you've made some new friends in town, too." Okay, so it wasn't exactly a question.

EJ frowns. "New friends?"

"Something I heard from Chicago." He waves a hand, and that was a lie. It's just that he's not giving me away. Before EJ can even begin to suspect me, Felix has given a source. "Just—just be careful." Now he's painting himself as the one who gives a shit, basically, which might cause EJ to doubt whatever he's doing with the Outfit boys. "When your father comes back from Florida, maybe we should all sit down and talk." Felix is good, covering all bases, since he knows very well Emmett's not in Florida, and now I know what I'm allowed to talk about.

EJ doesn't reply.

"Next topic?" Nonno suggests.

Felix nods. "Yeah, I bet you're wondering why you're both here." He looks between EJ and me. But I already know his game. His work is done, but now he can play off his previous words as "friendly advice" instead of what it really was: a warning—it was to let EJ know that Felix knows everything that goes on in his town. That _friendly advice_ was also to plant doubt and confusion in EJ's head. And now…now Felix will probably bring up some insignificant bullshit story that will explain why we're both here, EJ and me.

And it turns out I'm right. Felix tells us our fighting has to stop. Enough is enough. EJ and I are family and we're supposed to have each other's back. I listen, knowing Felix is just saying this to have something to discuss, and EJ nods, just as reluctant as I am to make peace.

By the time we're done eating, it's almost eight o'clock, and I've missed dinner at home. Not that I'm hungry, but I told Mom I'd be there. Which reminds me of another thing Dad has advised me: don't make promises you can't keep. When he makes promises to Mom and he doesn't deliver, she makes him suffer. Because she worries. So…Dad tries to never promise anything. Just that he'll be careful and that he'll be home as soon as he can.

"Mr. Colucci," Enzo says, appearing at our table, dressed like the chef he is. Off the record, he's also on my father's crew. Along with Nico. "Sorry to bother you, but Junior left you a message. The sit-down in Kansas City has been postponed 'til tomorrow."

Outwardly, I show nothing, but my mind spins, and I can't help but wonder what my dad is doing in Chicago that is so secret. As far as I know, there's only a handful of people who know he's there—Felix, Nonno, Zio Alec, and me. Everyone else thinks he's visiting Nico in Kansas City.

"_Grazie, Enzo_," Felix responds with a tight-lipped smile.

**Junior's POV**

It goes without saying that we follow Emmett once he's done with whatever he did down by the docks.

"Too fucking public," Alec mutters as we watch Emmett pull in at a fancy hotel. And my brother's right. There's not a lot we can do here. Too many people around. Security, cameras, nosy hotel staff. It ain't like some motel in Nevada, that's for sure. "What's the plan?"

"We wait." The meeting he had with whomever down by the docks earlier…I doubt that's the end of it—call it a gut feeling. I think he's going back tomorrow, so my hope is that we can intercept him between now and then and take care of him. "I'm gonna go across the street and call Felix. Keep your eyes open."

"Bet."

~oOo~

Early next morning, I'm in a foul fucking mood, and when we see Emmett exiting the hotel, I have a feeling I'm gonna take out all my frustrations on him. 'Cause sleeping in a car…_fuck_.

Well, it's technically a van now. Alec got it for us a few hours ago while I kept my eye on a dead hotel.

"He's walking," Alec yawns, starting the vehicle.

"That's actually good." I scrub my hands over my face, grimacing at the feel of it. I need a shower, a fucking shave. "I wanna get this over with." More than that, I wanna go home. Thank God we have fake papers, 'cause I ain't driving back. I'm sitting my ass on a flight, end of story.

Following slowly, we watch as Emmett enters a diner, and it won't get better or easier than this. He's still close to the hotel, so my guess is that he's only going for breakfast here.

"You wanna take him here?" my brother asks.

I scratch my nose and nod. "Park right outside." The windows are tinted and this side street is pretty empty. It shouldn't be too hard to get him into the van. It's not like I haven't done this before.

No longer in a suit, I take advantage of the sweatshirt I'm wearing and pull up the hood. Alec does the same, and I tell him to keep the car running. Then I'm out, tucking my hand into the front pocket of my hoodie where I have my nine. Keeping my head low, I pull open the sliding door at the side of van, and then I just wait outside the diner.

I could've made Alec do this, but where's the fun in that? Nowadays, Nico and Enzo do the dirty work for me. When I travel, it's usually just to pop someone in the head and leave them behind to be found. No cleanup—just in and out.

Vinny wants to utilize me and my crew in the beef he has with New York, but Felix ain't that stupid—he'd never agree to start a war. _Thank God—I'm too old for that shit_. That'd be a suicide mission if there ever was one. I remember back in the day…Cullen's pretty cool, but Marcus Misone? I don't fucking think so. Hopefully, he'll never have a son—a son who will run with the Misone genes. I think Cullen's got two boys, though—maybe one of them them can take over instead when that day comes.

The door to the diner opens and closes a few times, but it's not Emmett.

Another ten minutes later, I'm ready to check the back, but the door opens again, and I see Emmett walk out, wiping his hands on a napkin.

Taking a deep breath, I walk up right behind him and push the barrel of my gun into his side. "Your brother wants a word wit'chu," I lie as he stiffens. "Keep walking." His head goes from side to side, looking for an escape, though he's trying to be subtle about it. He knows he's fucked up, but if Felix is around—his own brother—he might not be scared for his life yet. Then again, if he's hell-bent on believing that Felix had something to do with their pops' death, he's gotta be aware that he's not safe.

Ten feet later, I push him into the back of the van and follow, quickly sliding the door shut. My piece is still aimed at Emmett when I give Alec the OK to drive.

"What the fuck is going on?" Emmett spits out, straightening his suit.

I get comfortable, leaning back against the part that separates the cab of the van from the back. "You makin' friends in Chicago, huh?" I scratch my jaw. "I wonder what Felix might say."

He glares at me. "Where is he? You said…"

"Yeah, I'm taking you to him." Another lie, but I want him calm in the fucking car. Plus, I think the possibility of us taking Emmett to see Felix is the only thing stopping him from pulling out his own piece. And I ain't turning this into a Mexican fuckin' stand-off.

This will give me a minute to talk to Emmett, too. He's no longer family to me, but he used to be. We grew up together, Isabella and I are godparents to his youngest daughter, and he makes mad money for our family.

"You followed me?" Emmett asks, clenching his jaw.

I don't answer; it's pretty obvious we did.

"So, now what?" He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I gotta beg my own brother to spare my life? Give me a pass? What?"

I ignore that. "How's EJ doing?"

He stares at me, probably wondering how much I know. Wondering if we'd go after his son, wondering if he could already be dead…maybe. I'm no mind reader.

There's no response from him.

So, I ask the next question. "What're you doing here in Chicago?"

Now he smirks. "I fail to see how that's your business." He lets out a laugh. "You're my brother's bitch—doing his bidding. His little cocksucker. You think you're so important, huh? _Non sei niente, Maisano_. Felix wouldn't hesitate to have you clipped."

I smile. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

~oOo~

When the van finally comes to a stop, we've been on the road for an hour or so.

Alec's wearing a grin as he opens the door, and the first thing that hits me is the smell of water—Lake Michigan.

We're in the middle of nowhere. High grass, water, sound of seagulls, grey sky.

"Let's go, cousin," I say and get out. When he doesn't move, I jerk my chin at him. "Time's a wastin'. I don't have all _fucking_ day." I smile darkly, having trouble keeping my temper in check.

For all I know, his plan was to get help from the Outfit to take us out. Emmett's fucking my shit up, and regardless of his impending death, I still gotta send my family on vacation. 'Cause who knows? Maybe Emmett has already put out hits and given people here money. If an order has been issued, it doesn't matter if the man who placed said order is alive or dead. And I don't fucking want a mark on my back.

If we're lucky, Emmett hasn't gone through with anything yet, but I'm not taking chances.

"Felix isn't coming, is he?" Emmett's voice is flat.

I shake my head no.

He smiles, though his eyes are empty and glassy. "Family loyalty, huh? You kill my father, I want revenge, and then you ice me?"

"Oh!" I throw my head back and laugh. "Check him out, bro." I nudge Alec with my elbow. "We's got a storyteller on our hands."

Alec chuckles. "Get the fuck outta hea' wid'at shit already."

"Gimme a fucking break," Emmett snaps. "You think I'm stupid?"

I sober and tilt my head. "What does your stupidity hafta do with anythin'?"

Emmett grits his teeth. "I know youse iced my pops, Junior."

"Oh—" I nod, curious "—and how would you know that? Your friends down in Florida tell you that?" I chuckle. "Fine—if you wanna listen to those monkeys running around down there without a fuckin' clue…" I shrug.

"There's no need for you to keep up a charade," he says flatly.

I chuckle again. "Yeah, well…"

Raising my nine, I pop one in his chest and then one in his head.

Emmett Colucci falls to the ground.

I widen my eyes, actually impressed at myself—I managed to be so calm throughout his bullshit. "He was getting on my last fucking nerve," I tell my brother. "Fat muthafucka'." Grunting, Alec and I carry Emmett's body over to the water. "Felix wants him found."

"No cement shoes, then?" he chuckles, a bit outta breath.

"Funny." I snicker, and then with some final efforts, we dump the body in the water. I reckon he'll be found in a few weeks. It's really remote out here, so… "Let's check out his hotel room back in the city before we get outta here."

~oOo~

In Emmett's room, we find two briefcases full of money, which gives us hope that he never followed through with whatever he was doing here. Still, I'm sending Isabella and the kids to either New York or the Bahamas. Alec's doing the same with Maria and their little AJ.

"Does this mean we're driving back to Vegas?" Alec sighs.

I smirk and clap him on the shoulder. "You are. I'm not." My plan is to check in at some hotel near the airport, shower, change clothes, eat, and then fly home. I wanna be home by dinner—a late dinner, but dinner nonetheless. Actually, I gotta get going, 'cause I'm flying to LA. From there, I'll drive.

"You're kidding me," Alec spits out.

"'Fraid not, little brother. You drive back with the dough—I send our families on vacation."

That makes him perk up. Anything to stay away from his wife. In fact, I'm sure he'll stay with his goomah while Maria and AJ are gone. I've only met his bunny a few times, but I know Alec would rather stay with her. Had it not been for his son, I'm sure he'd spend as much time at home as I did when I was married to Jane. Fuck, I rarely even saw her. If I could help it, I was with Isabella and our children.

Speaking of Isabella, I better call her soon and tell her I'm on my way home.

**Hummingbird's POV**

"Why are you so restless, baby?" I ask Anthony, swiping a rag down the counter. Junior will be home in a few hours; I want the house spotless and smelling of his favorite food when he gets here. But it's kinda hard to be productive when I have Anthony following me around like a lost little puppy. Which he's been doing for the past hour.

"I'm bored," he mumbles.

Walking over to him, I reach up and cup his cheek. "You sure that's it, _topolino_? It looks like there's something bothering you."

He grimaces. "Why does Elisa gotta be here with her friends all the time, huh?" He speaks with his hands. "I wanted to do a few laps—whatever, and…then I go out there—" he points in the direction of the living room, therefore the backyard and the pool "—and all I see are Elisa's friends!"

I cock a brow. "Since when was that _ever_ a problem for _you_?" He's ridiculous, for Christ's sake. The last couple years, when Elisa's friends started growing breasts, Anthony's been a happy camper in the backyard whenever Elisa brings girls over. Hell, even Dominic's the same now. He's out there this very moment, most likely with a magazine covering his crotch.

Nasty little fucker. God bless him.

"It's not!" Now he looks upset, angry…and something I haven't figured out yet. But it's a new look on Anthony. "It's not a problem—just… Fuck!"

"Hey!" I smack the back of his head. "What's the matter wit'chu, huh? Manners, Anthony. Fucking manners." Shaking my head, I leave him to his bitching. From the fridge I gather sodas and pastries, and then I walk through the living room and out the patio door. "Girls!" I shout; they're all in the pool—Elisa, Amanda, Gabriella, and two I don't remember the names of.

"Mom, can I have some, too?" Dominic asks, sitting a few feet away on a lounger.

I smirk and eye the towel on his lap. "Sure. C'mere and get it."

"Um." He fidgets.

I snort.

They're Junior's kids. What can I say?

Elisa and her friends soon come running across the lawn, all dressed in their bikinis or bathing suits, and it doesn't take a genius to figure out that Dominic can't get up. Well…

"Thanks, Mom." Elisa plops down in her own lounger and runs a towel through her hair, the sun making the water beads on her skin glisten. She's so gorgeous, my little girl. Only, she's not so little anymore.

"Eat." I set the tray on the side table between Elisa and Amanda. "All'a youse." I give Gabriella a look. She thinks she's fat; I say she's beyond beautiful. She's got meat on her bones, something I'm trying to make Elisa understand is a good thing. Healthy. My daughter's not skinny, mind you, but she could use a few more pounds. Amanda and the other two are a lost cause, though. I'm afraid I'd snap them like twigs if I hugged them.

"Thank you, Mrs. Maisano," Amanda says sweetly.

"No problem." I smile and then face Gabriella. "You stayin' the night, hon?" If I remember correctly, she and Elisa were talking about a movie night earlier.

"If it's okay," she responds softly and quietly. "Um, my mom wants me home for dinner, but then…"

"Of course!" I nod. "Just holler if you want anything, girls." With that said, I make my way inside again, noticing a grumbling Anthony trudging up the stairs. I shake my head, wondering what's up with that boy today. He's usually acting like the big man—like an adult—and now he's…not.

Ah, well. Time to start dinner.

~oOo~

"I love you, I love you, I love you!" I kiss his cheeks, his nose, his eyes, his lips, all while he chuckles tiredly and squeezes my ass. Behind us, here in the hallway, I can hear Julia and Elisa giggling. Not that I care. And they know I go nuts when their father's been away for a few days. Like now, when I'm all over Junior. Arms and legs wrapped around him. "_Dio—mi hai fatto preoccupare!_" I glare at him and slap his shoulder. Then I crash my mouth to his again.

"Mom, it's my turn now!" Julia whines, sounding like a five-year-old instead of an almost eleven-year-old. But she gets away with it, 'cause she's the baby of the family. "Daddy! Did you buy me something on your trip?"

"Mom's almost done. Wait a sec, _picollina_," Anthony mutters, and I can almost hear his eye-roll.

Grinning, I stare into Junior's amused eyes. "_Ti amo_."

"_Ti amo, mio bell'uccellino_," he whispers and kisses me softly.

That'll have to do for now. We'll continue our reunion later tonight. Behind closed doors.

"Okay, kids—give Daddy your hugs and kisses," I say, both feet back on the ground. "Dinner's almost ready."

~oOo~

Once I've set the table in the kitchen, everyone takes their place—Junior and I at opposite heads, Anthony and Julia on either side of Junior, and Elisa and Dominic next to me. As always—well, when my husband is home—he says grace before we dig in.

And in true Junior spirit, he asks all kids what they've been up to while he was gone. It doesn't matter that he looks exhausted beyond words; he has this need to know.

"I swam ten laps in the pool without stopping," Julia says proudly before guzzling down some milk. "I'm gonna do more tomorrow as soon as I wake up."

Junior reaches over to kiss her on the forehead. "You're so good, baby. I'll watch tomorrow." I beam at that, glad to have him home for a day. Next is Dominic, and he tells his father this and that about what he and Colin have been up to. Then it's Anthony's turn; he's still looking sullen and moody. And aside from the meeting he had with Felix at _Stella Mia_—which I'm relieved to hear was only about EJ and his fighting too much—he has nothing to share. Lastly, it's Elisa, and she speaks about summer school and how she can't wait to be done with it all.

"So, what're the plans for next week?" Junior asks, adding more gravy to his pork chop.

"I need clothes!" Julia shouts.

"So do I," Dominic adds.

"Me too." Anthony nods.

"Yeah, Mom." Elisa gives me a look.

"Oh, hummingbird," Junior chuckles. "Do I need clothes, too?"

I stare down at my plate and hum.

"Yeah, so it's Rosalie's birthday next week—she's turning forty-three," I comment, ignoring their eyes on me. I admit it; I sometimes go overboard, but I can't help it. It's one thing if my husband tells me he'll be gone for two days—even a week, whatever. It's the not knowing at all that kills me. This time, Junior couldn't tell me, and when that happens, I want to make sure I'm in God's good graces. And if I'm on His good side, maybe I can get my husband there, too. I'm pretty good at convincing. "She was talking about hosting a dinner at _Stella_—like you did, _ciccino_." I'm so ridiculous, actually speaking to my plate. "And Giuliana will still be here then, so…" Right now she's at her hotel, though I suspect she's more accurately in the hotel casino. She likes to gamble.

"Isabella?" Junior drags out the sound of my name.

"_What_?" I snap a little and look up. They're all staring at me, smirking, grinning, about to giggle—the last one is Julia. "Mother of Christ! I'm sorry, okay? I'll take youse shopping this week. Don't worry, Juniuh, I'll handle your shopping. We good?" I look to all of them.

They laugh at me.

Lovely.

"Actually…" Junior shifts in his seat a little, the laughter dying down. "I asked about next week, 'cause, uh…" He hesitates and gives me a wary look.

My face falls before I compose it again. Nodding in understanding, I reel in my temper and plaster a fake smile on my lips. "We're going on vacation," I state tightly.

Julia and Dominic go straight to cheering, and Elisa's happy too, but she's got questions.

"Where are we going? How long are gonna be away?" She's bouncing in her seat, eyes flicking between Junior and me. "Can I bring a friend?"

I wave a hand at my husband; he can answer. I'm too annoyed to.

"A few weeks," Junior says, clearing his throat. He wears a smile for our children's sake. "Um, you'll be visiting Zia Brianna and your cousins in the Bahamas, and you're leaving tomorrow night. And no, I'm afraid you can't bring a friend this time, _angioletto_. I've already booked the tickets…"

Despite the fact that I've completely lost my appetite, I push some food into my mouth just to have something to do.

"I'm not going, though, right?" Anthony looks to Junior.

"Of course you are." He frowns. "Why wouldn't you?"

That's what I'd like to know.

"Dad…" Our son looks like he's ready to beg Junior. "You can't—I mean…I'm a grown man!"

I roll my eyes and take a big gulp of my wine.

"You're going." Junior points his fork to Anthony. "I don't wanna hear another word about it, _capisce_?"

"But—"

"ENOUGH!" Junior shouts, eyes murderous.

Anthony shuts up.


	18. Vendetta 8

**Special thanks to Lisa, Francesca, Kitty, and Lexi!**

**Many have asked me to put up the character sheet again, so that's what I'll be doing tomorrow—including a picture of Gabriella. You'll find it all on my WordPress (link on my profile) tomorrow.**

**Time for some lemoning!**

* * *

**Grand Vendetta**

**Chapter 8**

**September 1****st**** 1993**

**Translation**

_Quel bastardo di un panzone!_ = That fat bastard!

_Sono così incazzata!_ = I'm so mad!

_Davvero? Non lo avrei mai pensato_ = Really? I never would've thought.

_E come ultima cosa, voglio che ti metta la mia maglietta_ = Lastly, I want you in my shirt

_Che succede?_ = What's going on?

**Junior's POV**

"_Cazzo_—right there." I grit my teeth together, grabbing at Isabella roughly as I push into her over and over. She's definitely gained a few pounds while on vacation, and now I'm acting like a fucking teenager. I'm all hands—grabby as fuck. Sweat starts to bead on my forehead, and my chest is heaving, but I don't stop—I _can't_ stop. For Christ's sake, it's been ages now since I had my wife. Almost two months, in fact—an extreme even in our world.

They came home from the Bahamas this morning after weeks in the sun, and since it happens to be Julia's birthday—my sweet princess turned eleven today—our house was packed with people until I sorta threw them out two hours ago. Only a couple of Elisa's friends are still here—some sleepover, no matta'. And this is round two with my hummingbird. Round one was in the shower, just a quick fuck, but it was needed. Now…in bed…Christ, she's spectacular, clawing at me, meeting my thrusts, kissing me all over, humming and moaning…

"_Ciccino_," she cries out, throwing her head back against the pillow.

"Fuck yeah, so good," I groan, hitching her leg over my hip. Then I drive in deeper, harder, and she's soaked for me, causing these wet sounds… After almost nineteen years with Isabella, she still amazes me. The man I was fifteen years ago was crazy in love with her, too, but he didn't see the future like this. Love fades, passion disappears, and that flame diminishes. At least that's how it usually goes, but…not with my wife. I see my friends with goomahs, random broads, and I fucking pity them. Jasper's hooking up with his dancers to left and right nowadays, Felix has a few on the side, Alec has one… As far as I know, only Riley, Pop, Enzo, and I have hit the jackpots with our wives.

"I'm—I'm, fuck…almost there," she whimpers.

I grin, digging deeper, grinding. "Don't I fucking know it, hummingbird," I pant, feeling her clamping down on my cock. I rub her clit in tight little circles and dip down to suck a nipple into my mouth. With the birthday party today, I've been reminiscing a little, something I tend to do from time to time, especially around a birthday, and…I remember all those times when Isabella was pregnant, how we fucked like crazy. And I remember something that drove me mad when we were expecting Julia. It was the fucking breast milk, I'm tellin' ya. The way the flavor of a couple drops would explode in my mouth as we fucked, fucked, fucked. Just the memory of it makes me groan, my thighs clench, and balls tighten. "Squeeze me harder." I swallow a moan and keep lavishing her tits with kisses, nips, and licks. "Holy mother of—" I gasp as she tenses around me.

We both come without warning. My eyes screw shut, my body trembles, I shudder violently, my cock releases into her slick, hot pussy. Under me, Isabella cries out, quakes, whimpers, and…shit, when it's been so long since I hit it, it feels like one of those times where you say it was the best goddamn fuck ever.

"Jesus Christ!" I collapse next to her, trying to catch my breath. I blink and stare up at the ceiling, and I swallow, my mouth too dry. "Oh, Isabella…"

My wife sits up and puts on her skimpy little whatever-it's-called—she surprised me with it before. Short, black, lacy, see-through, the death of me. "That was amazing." She hums and cuddles into my side. I pull her closer and manage a grunt in agreement. _Mannaggia_, I wish I wasn't so spent. "I've really missed you, _ciccino_."

"You too." A yawn slips out, and I give her a good squeeze, 'cause I can't fucking use words yet. "Let's sleep, hummingbird…"

"But we haven't talked yet," she whines a little. "Please, Juniuh. I have so many questions."

I keep my eyes closed and bury my face in her hair; the last thing I wanna do is talk.

'Cause Isabella's not the only one who's tired after not only a birthday party but traveling, too. After weeks of being on constant alert, nothing happened. We've been at a standstill, not knowing what to do. We waited for the Outfit to strike, yet that didn't happen. However, we needed insurance before we allowed our families to come home, so Felix, Pops, Alec, and I went out to New York and had a sit-down with Marcus Misone. Felix explained our problems, and we eventually got their support. New York ended up with even more power, but it matters little to me when I have my back clear. After that, we went to Chicago, and Felix told the boss that if they move in on us in Nevada, they'll have to answer to New York, too—the biggest crime family in the States. Safe to say, the boss in Chicago was more than willing to forget about everything—to even forget Emmett's name and his business with them.

Done deal.

We went home again, called back our families, and here we are now…

There's still cleanup; it's only a matter or time before Emmett's body is found, and then we have to keep an eye on EJ. We just hope it won't come to anything. EJ has no business with Chicago people anymore, and his hero is gone. Right now, he's testy as fuck, waiting for Emmett to come home, but we doubt he'll actually do something. I mean…he's no one, essentially, and without his father's backup…

"Don't fall asleep on me, _ciccino_," Isabella murmurs with a pout in her voice. "For _weeks_, we've only had phone conversations."

I chuckle groggily and tighten my hold on her. "We can talk tomorrow, baby."

"Hmph." She pinches my side. "Well, can you at least tell me what crawled up Giuliana's ass and died?" I stiffen. "'Cause she won't take my calls, and when her son answered at one point, he told me to talk to you—then he just hung up! Disrespectful little bastard."

Tired as fuck, and, admittedly, a little annoyed, I scrub a hand over my face, realizing I gotta give this to her now. She deserves to know this, at least, and I hope she won't hate me for it.

"You can forget about Giuliana and Vinny, _bell'uccellino_," I sigh, a bit saddened by this development. "There's been some changes out East, and Vinny cut our ties." His loss. Though, if Vinny hadn't done it, Felix would've eventually. We can't be on both sides—New York's and Jersey's. Especially not when they're constantly going at each other. Sometimes it's small, sometimes it's major. Staten Island can look like a war zone at times, since men from both sides reside there.

"Wait, what?" Isabella lifts her head to look me in the eye. "The fuck're you talkin' about, Juniuh? They're godparents to Julia. Why the hell would they cut ties with us?"

I purse my lips, thinking about what to say—if I should go with the truth or if I should just silence it. Regardless, it's not gonna change anything. We're through with Jersey. Granted, it didn't have to be as severe as it is now. I personally don't see anything wrong with having our wives talking. They don't know enough to share shit that shouldn't be shared anyway, but…no matta'. It is what it is. If Vinny has told Giuliana she can't talk to my wife, then…

"I don't know the entire story," I lie and push some hair from her beautiful face. "Felix has conducted business that Vinny didn't like—something that didn't even involve Jersey, so…" I shrug with one shoulder. "Vinny got all pissed." The lies roll off my tongue easily. It's for the best. I'd rather have my wife angry at Vinny than have her be all sad. And pissed at me or Felix.

"So, he's told Giuliana she can't call me?" she asks incredulously.

"Basically."

"_Quel bastardo di un panzone!_" she spits out.

"Oh-ho!" I chuckle. "Christ, Isabella." I squeeze her when she tries to get up. "Cool it." I kiss her temple. "There's nothin' we can do abouddit."

"Giuliana's my friend," she argues. "Not to mention she's close to your mother and Esme. That Vinny—" she waves her fist "—he's got some balls. Actually," she scoffs, "he fucking doesn't. Being all bitchy—a pussy—and telling Giuliana she can't see us."

I smirk. "Are you done?" I grab her right tit, which was peeking outta her smoking hot lingerie.

"No, I'm not," she snarls. "_Sono così incazzata!_"

I laugh and roll us over, covering her body with mine. "You know, I can always shut you up with my cock."

"You do what you gotta do." She sniffs. "I'm still mad at them."

Yeah, so I get my shit greased for the third time.

I'd call that a _spectacular_ fucking day.

**Anthony's POV**

Waking up in the middle of the night because I hear giggles down the hall isn't my idea of fun. It just pisses me off, and after today I really need my fucking sleep. Hell, I was tired the minute we came home after the vacation in the Bahamas, but then there was a goddamn party for my baby sis that I had to be there for, and…yeah, I'm moody as fuck now.

I try to fall asleep again, but I hear more giggles…

And then I suddenly need to take a piss, too, so I throw off my covers and trudge outta my room, wearing only my pajama bottoms.

Dee can sleep through anything, but Julia is the opposite, and our rec room is right across the hall from Julia's and Dee's rooms. And if _I_ can hear Elisa and her friends in the rec room… A part of me kinda wants Julia to wake up, 'cause I know she will go downstairs and complain to our parents, and then Dad will fly up here and bring Elisa to tears. See, while he can shout at my brother and me for nothing, there are only three things that will make him treat Elisa and Julia the same way. One, don't _ever_ disrupt his sleep. Two, don't talk about boys. Three, don't disturb him when he's, um, you know, with Mom.

With a sleepy smirk on my face, I wash my hands in my bathroom—the one I share with Dee—and decide not to remind my sister to keep it down.

Standing outside the rec room, I press my ear to the door and hear more of those giggles. Earlier, I went to bed as soon as I could, so I don't know for sure who's in there. I can hear Elisa and Amanda, and if there's a third person, it's usually Gabriella.

I fucking hope it's not her.

She fucked up my entire vacation, and she wasn't even there.

Before we left for the Bahamas, there was a weird feeling in my gut when I saw Gabriella at our house the day after I'd seen her at _Stella_. I don't fucking know what it was, and I don't read into things. It bothered me—still does—and it followed me to the Bahamas. I mean…I bagged a couple broads there, but then, like—in the shower, I'd jerk off, and whose fucking body pops up? Gabriella's of all people! _Madonn'_. And it just wouldn't quit, either. In my head, I'd see her big tits, her round ass…I'd imagine her full figure.

At our house, when she and Elisa are in the pool, she's never in a bikini. Always a modest swimsuit, but still, I'm not fucking blind. And my imagination is spectacular.

I groan internally, feeling my dick wake up in my sleep pants.

Looking down at myself, I think about what has turned out to be worse than jerking off to the thought of her, and that was when I'd go to bed while on vacation. That's when I'd see her face. Those dark eyes with flecks of gold. Those loose curls that always get in her face. The barely-there freckles on her nose. Her mouth…

I grimace and shake my head at myself.

Going back to sleep right now would be even more impossible.

"Jesus Christ," I sigh, and with defeat in my step, I walk downstairs. Maybe a sandwich and some milk will do the trick.

Duke and Duchess greet me downstairs and follow me to the kitchen, but when they notice I ain't in a giving mood, they mosey away again. I make my sandwich in silence, going to town on the meats Uncle Alec brought over earlier for the party. And when all is done, I sit down on one of the stools by the kitchen island and dig in.

It's maybe five minutes later that I hear someone coming down the stairs. The sound of plates and silverware clanking quietly make me believe it's Elisa coming down to leave the dirty dishes before they go to sleep or whatever. _Pity_. I guess Julia won't wake up, then.

"Get the fuck outta hea'," I mutter when Duchess sniffs on my foot. "That you, sis?" I look over my shoulder, but fuck me…no. That's not Elisa. That's Gabriella. The surprise of seeing her causes me to literally inhale the food in my mouth, so I end up coughing. "_Fuck_." I cringe and rub my chest.

"I'm s-sorry! Are you okay?" She rushes over and sets the tray of dirty dishes on the counter. In her haste, she drops a fork on the floor. "I didn't mean to scare you."

I wave her off, coughing into my hand. _Jesus Christ_. Then a groan gets thrown into the mix when she bends over to pick up the fork. Believe me, I've seen hotter outfits than that, but for some reason her light blue sleep shorts and matching t-shirt just work. Aside from the shorts ending mid-thigh, her clothes are modest. The t-shirt isn't tight by any means, so why the fuck am I even looking?

"Are you sure you're okay?" she asks timidly, shifting her weight from foot to foot. She's biting down on her plump bottom lip, too, and she refuses to look me in the eye.

"I'm fine." I clear my throat and take a sip from my milk.

"All right." She wrings her hands together. "Um, I should…" She points toward the doorway. "Goodnight, Anthony." Her voice is so soft.

"Wait." I stand up. "I'm gonna head up, too." I don't know what the fuck I'm doing, but I'm not ready to let her go just yet. After dumping my plate in the sink, I gesture for her to go first. _Mamma mia_. I bite down on my knuckles as I follow her up the stairs, my eyes solely trained on her bubble ass. "Are you sleeping in Elisa's room or the rec room?" I ask when we get to the landing. I already know they're staying in the rec room, but I'm stalling here.

"In here." She looks up at me with a nervous smile as we stop outside of the rec room. But she's quick to avert her gaze again, and I realize what an idiot I am when I remember that I'm not wearing a shirt. No wonder she's avoiding looking at me—I probably make her uncomfortable.

"Right…" I take a small step toward her, suddenly feeling like I'm on the prowl. It's dark up here, but the single light from the staircase allows me to see Gabriella's features, mainly her flushing cheeks. Her lips are slightly parted, too, and I can see her chest moving rapidly with her small, shallow breaths. And I gotta wonder why she hasn't made a move to open the door yet.

Standing right before her, I let my knuckles brush against her arm, sliding upward. It's what finally makes her look up, and her eyes widen when she sees just how close we are. I should stop, back off, but I don't want to.

She smells amazing—like some sweet candy. Toffee or fudge or…

"Um…" She swallows and drops her gaze to my chest. "I, uh…what…"

"Gabriella?" Gently gripping her chin, I tilt it up, and I'm fucking stuck again. What the hell is it with her eyes? One look and it's like my heart starts racing.

She gulps. "What—what're you doing?"

My eyes flick from hers to her mouth, and… "Can I kiss you?" I look her in the eyes again and let my thumb ghost over her bottom lip. She's so fucking soft. I'm dying to get my hands on her, feel more than…this, I don't know.

"What?" she squeaks, eyes widening. "Wh-why?"

The right corner of my mouth quirks up. "Because I want to? Because…" I release a breath and take one more step. "Because you're fucking gorgeous," I admit.

"Oh," she mouths.

"That's right—_oh_," I chuckle quietly and place my free hand on her hip. Bending just a little at the knees, we're face-to-face, and I lean in a bit farther, almost touching her nose with mine. "Lemme kiss you," I whisper.

She swallows. "Um, I…okay."

Elation courses through my body, and I close the distance between us, softly brushing my lips to hers. My eyes close. I can feel her every breath, smelling like toothpaste, and all I wanna do is push, push, push…I wanna taste her. At first, she just lets me kiss her without really kissing me back, but then she goes with it. She applies pressure, and her hands tentatively come to my stomach, causing my abs to clench. Backing her into the wall, I deepen the kiss and suck her bottom lip into my mouth. She likes that, 'cause she whimpers and gives me more.

The way she's kissing me, I honestly doubt I'm her first kiss. That upsets me for about two seconds before her hands come up my chest and she locks them around my neck. I groan and push my tongue into her mouth, now hopeful I might get further than first fuckin' base.

"Fuck, baby," I moan, feeling her hands in my hair. Pressing against her, I know she can feel my cock between us. But if anything, she seems turned on and willing. Our tongues slide together, and I finally let my hands roam free. Well, pretty free. She may have kissed before, but I doubt she's done much more than that. Regardless, I move my hands down her body, feeling her softness. And then up again, past her belly, up her ribcage… The pads of my thumbs swipe over the undersides of her tits.

"Anthony," she pants as I kiss her jaw, down to her neck. She fists my hair and holds me in place while I taste the skin behind her ear. Her sweet scent and soft skin elicit moans from me. "We shouldn't…" Fuck, she's ending it. "I mean, Elisa's—"

"Don't mention my sister, baby—" I crash my mouth to hers "—when I'm rubbing my cock on you." I nip at her bottom lip and pull her impossibly closer just so she can feel how hard she makes me.

"Oh, God." She literally throws herself at me, shocking the hell outta me, but fuck me if I'm gonna stop her. "Can we at least go to your room?"

"Christ, yes," I groan.

It only takes a few seconds for us to get into my room and have the door locked, but that's all I need to calm down, and now I wonder what the hell Gabriella's up to. This isn't the girl I grew up with. She's not this forward.

"I'm not having sex with you," she blurts out, standing by my bed. My eyebrows shoot up; she's looking all nervous again. "I'm—I'm sorry if that's what I made you believe." She looks down.

I'm actually relieved, however weird that sounds.

Gabriella's different. She's not a quick fuck. As my dad would say…she's the kind of girl you marry, and…I sure as hell don't want that kinda girl to just give it up like that. Besides, I'm still reeling from this new shit going on with me—inside of me, whatever. I need time. I need to think. But what I need even more than that is just to feel her. I want her body close to mine—fuck, it's what I've been fantasizing about for weeks now.

I walk over to her and tilt up her chin. "Hey…" I kiss her on the forehead. "Spend the night with me. _Not_ having sex." I grin a little and tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. "I'm down with cuddling, too." Well, I am with her.

She giggles. "_Davvero? Non lo avrei mai pensato_."

Shit. "What's that supposed to mean?" I'm not being defensive or anything. I just don't want her to think…ah, fuck it. I know what people, especially girls, say about me.

"Um, your uncle Jasper's barbecue?" She chews on her lip, looking to my bed. "You took Sarah up here, right?"

"Who?" I frown, thinking back. Then I nod, remembering bits and pieces. I think she was blond. No, she was…um. "Never mind." I take her hands in mine. "She didn't touch this bed, I'll tell ya that. I didn't even have…" _sex with her._ Yeah, not what I wanna fucking talk about. "Listen—" I dip down to face her fully "—I like you, okay? I like you in a way I've never liked another girl." She blushes and tries to look down, but I don't let her. "I honestly don't know what the fuck I'm doing, Gabriella, but…" _Cazzo_. I blow out a breath, at a loss.

"It's okay," she rushes out. "I-I don't care about the past, um…as long—I'm sorry. I have no business tellin'—"

I think I know what she was gonna say, so I cut her off. "The past is the past, all right?" I give her hands a squeeze. "Don't ask me about the future, 'cause hell if I know, but I wanna try…" Try what? Be her boyfriend? Ask Enzo for permission to date his daughter? We all know what that's gonna lead to. This may be the '90s, but my parents and Gabriella's parents are old school; they'll see marriage.

"I don't wanna pressure you," she says nervously and stubbornly averts her gaze. "You're young, and…" She lets out a shaky laugh. "You're Anthony Maisano—you don't wanna be tied down." My brows knit together. "I'm not saying I gotta wait 'til I'm married to have sex, but I need it to be with a guy I'm serious about. More than that, I need the guy to be serious about me, too." She swallows, and the crease between her brows makes her look sad, which I don't fucking like. "I think I've had a crush on you for, like, a year," she whispers. "But what girl doesn't?" She shrugs dejectedly.

"Hey," I murmur. I'm confused, anxious, nervous. But I'm also happy about her confession, although I don't approve of her talking down about herself like that. It wasn't so much her words as it's her posture—like, a crush on me is to be expected, but it's not like it's gonna do shit for her? And she couldn't be more wrong about that one. After all, who the fuck am I here with? "Look at me," I coax softly, and she finally obeys. "I didn't expect this—anything—tonight. But you're here now, and…" Christ, am I really gonna do this? Yeah. I fucking am. Two months of obsessing over her…I gotta know where this might go. "Like I said, I don't know about the future, but right now? I want you. And I'm not talking about a fucking night or whatever." Shit, I suck at this. "I wanna try this—" I wave a finger between us "—this, us, you and me."

"Yeah?" She looks both shy and hopeful.

I smile and touch her cheek. "Yeah." I hope we're done with the heavy now.

"But what about other girls?" She cringes.

"What about them?" I chuckle and widen my arms. "You have no idea what you're doin' to me, Gabriella." I let out a quiet laugh and shake my head. "There's no other fuckin' girl, all right?" I cup her cheeks. "When I'm wit'chu, there's only you."

"Okay." Her face breaks out in a gorgeous smile.

"Good." I kiss her nose. "We done now? 'Cause…" I lick my lips. "I wanna get on that bed—" I point next to us, my eyes never leaving hers "—and I wanna feel you next to me." I kiss her chin, her jaw. "I wanna kiss you some more." I get her on the lips. "And I wanna _sleep_." That last word may have come out as a whine. Gabriella's giggle makes me smile and hug her close. "_E come ultima cosa, voglio che ti metta la mia maglietta_." It's one of the things I've dreamed about, her in my clothes.

"Your shirt?"

I nod and walk over to my closet. In there, I quickly locate a black t-shirt, and then I join her again. "Put this on. For me?"

She grins. "You're weird."

I give the hem of her own shirt a tug.

"Fine!" she laughs and twirls a finger. "Turn around."

I suck my teeth, having hoped to get a look at her spectacular tits—Christ, they're really big—but I guess not.

"That's not playing fair," I tell her and turn around.

She doesn't reply, but I hear her turning around, too, so yeah, I look over my shoulder, and _fuuuck_. Her entire back is exposed to me as she drops her light blue shirt on the floor. No bra… And when I bend a little to the side, I can totally see the outline of one of her breasts. Jesus and his mother, when I get my hands on those bad boys, I doubt I'll ever let go.

When my shirt is on her body, I turn around again and try to calm the fuck down.

However, as much as I'd love to just…_drill my cock into her soft, sweet, tight pussy_—

"Fuck me," I mouth to myself and squeeze my eyes shut.

As much as I'd love that…I think this is good. For the first time in my life, I wanna get to know a girl, make her smile, fucking dote on her. Like Dad does with Mom, basically.

"I'm done," she says softly.

Releasing a breath, I face her with a sheepish smile.

Yeah, she smirks when she looks down.

There's just no hiding a boner.

"You looked, didn't you?" she accuses playfully.

I shrug and hug her to me. "Can you blame me?" My mouth goes to her neck. "I can't keep my fucking hands off you."

"Jesus, Anthony," she gasps. "Do I really—I mean, I really have that effect on you?"

With a smirk, I grab her hips and pull her closer so she can feel my cock against her belly. "What do _you_ think? Come on." I take her hand and lead her to my bed. "It's been a long-ass day."

Once the lights are out and we're both under the covers, I'm hit with both exhaustion and lust. It feels like I've never wanted a girl as much as I want Gabriella, and now she's in my damn bed. If only I hadn't traveled for ages and then spent countless hours at Julia's birthday party…

"This is nice," she sighs contentedly and snuggles closer.

"Nice is an understatement," I murmur, hitching her leg over my hip. In the dark, I can barely see her, but that's okay for now. "Is this okay?" I slide my hand up the backside of her thigh, just grazing her ass under her shorts. I know I gotta take it slow, but her ass and tits are calling me, I swear.

"Okay is an understatement," she mimics with a giggle.

I grin and palm her ass, dipping down to kiss her at the same time. I groan against her lips. Her ass is outta this world, soft, round, smooth, and Gabriella lets me squeeze and grope like the teenager I am until we fall asleep in a tangled mess.

~oOo~

"I think we need to get up, Anthony…"

"Fuck that," I grumble, pulling the covers over our heads. "Too…" I yawn and bury my face in her hair and grope her tits some. "Too early." Julia's been up for a while, and now I can hear Dee and Elisa, too, which means Mom and Dad will be up soon, but I don't give a shit. "You smell good." I sniff her neck and decide to just stay here all day. In this exact position. "Like butterscotch, fudge…whadeva'de fuck…"

"Um," she giggles sleepily, "it's my lotion."

I inhale deeply and give her luscious ass a firm squeeze. For good measure and all.

"Anthony!" she laughs. "Elisa and Amanda are gonna wonder where I am, you know." She weaves her fingers through my hair.

I hum, a shiver running through me. "Another thing I don't care about. _Mannaggia_—keep doing that, baby. So…good… G'night…"

Unfortunately, I don't fall asleep again, because there's some goddamn commotion from downstairs. Screaming, sobbing…which ruins my mood and kills my morning wood. And this isn't like when Elisa begs Dad for more money or when Julia has broken a piece of furniture and our parents are scolding her. No, this is bigger.

"Who is that?" Gabriella asks as I reluctantly get outta bed. She gets up, too, looking all gorgeous with her messy hair and sleepy eyes. "Is it your mom?"

I shake my head and walk over to my closet. "No, it sounds like…" I don't know, but it's no one in my family. Maybe Alice or Brianna? No, this is shriller. Gianna? Rosalie? Maria? Grabbing a t-shirt, I pull it over my head, and then I locate a pair of grey sweats for Gabriella. "Here—" I toss them to her "—put 'em on." They'll be too big on her, just like my t-shirt, but the drawstrings are there for a reason.

"I'm wearing my shorts," she says, smiling curiously.

I chuckle and close the distance between us. Then I slide my hands over the backside of her thick thighs, and no, there's not a chance in hell she's going downstairs this way. "And you're showin' an awful lotta skin," I point out gruffly and give those pouty lips a kiss. "I'm the only one who gets to see you like this now." Taking a step back, I jerk my chin at the sweats in her hands. "Put 'em on."

"Bossy," she teases and puts them on. "Just 'cause you're my boyfriend now?"

I point to my chest. "I'm your _man_."

And she looks hot as fuck in my clothes. All I gotta do now is go over to Gabriella's house and tell Enzo I wanna take out his baby girl—his angel. I doubt there'll be trouble, though. As long as I respect his daughter, of course. I expect Pop will give me some speech, too. They've never seen me with a girlfriend…

Elisa will bitch at me. Mom will probably cry and ask for grandbabies. She's nuts like that. Doesn't matter I'm only seventeen and got years before I'll even think about that. Okay, I'll be seventeen in a week—whatever. Dad will calm her down. He does that.

"You ready?" I hold out my hand.

She smiles crookedly, flashing a cute dimple. "Just like that? Your family's gonna see us…"

"Just like that." I nod and she threads our fingers together. "I don't want you to act like I'm about to run, you know."

"I know. It's just—dammit, pinch me." She looks up at me with wide eyes.

My eyebrows shoot up. "What?"

"Pinch me," she insists and holds up our joined hands. "I gotta know if I'm dreaming."

"Oh…" I start laughing. "Too fucking cute." I give her a loud kiss on the lips, and then I usher her outta the room.

By the sound of it, upstairs is empty, and we walk down the stairs without seeing anybody. Downstairs is another matter; a shitload of noise is coming from the kitchen.

"I said _now_, Elisa." That's Dad; he's in the kitchen, too. "Take Julia wit'chu."

Rounding the last corner, Gabriella and I almost walk into my sisters who are coming outta the kitchen.

"There you are!" Elisa exclaims, eyes on Gabriella. "I've been looking all over for—" She sees our joined hands. When her furious glare comes my way, I'm smiling. "You've got to be freaking _kidding_ me, Anthony!"

"What's shakin', bacon?" Julia wriggles her butt, and she grabs my other hand. "Dad told us we're not allowed in the kitchen. Aunt Rosalie's crying a lot, and so is Teresa." She speaks of Rosalie and Emmett's youngest daughter. Hell, I can hear 'em both. "Hey, you're holding Gabby's hand! Hi, Gabby." She smiles up at my girl.

"Hey, Julia," Gabriella chuckles quietly. Like I am ignoring Elisa, Gabriella's doing the same, it seems.

"_Anthony_." Elisa taps her foot.

I kiss the top of Julia's head. "Go upstairs—watch a movie. Have you had breakfast yet?" She shakes her head no. "All right. Um, lemme talk to Dad, and then I can take youse out?"

I have a feeling my parents want privacy, especially when I hear a few words from Mom and Rosalie. Something about "ballistic", "trashing the house", and "he just left."

"Can we get pancakes?" Julia jumps up and down, tugging on my hand. It makes me chuckle. "Please, please?"

"Sure, _piccolina_," I agree. Facing Elisa, I suggest, "You help her get ready?"

"Can we talk later?" she counters.

I roll my eyes. "Yeah—whateva'."

Elisa and Julia disappear upstairs, and I spot Dee in the living room, so that should leave my parents, Rosalie, and Teresa in the kitchen.

"Maybe I should wait here," Gabriella says, apprehensive.

I nod, thinking that's a good idea. "I'll be right back." After stealing a quick kiss, I enter the kitchen and see Dad at the table and Mom, Rosalie, and Teresa at the kitchen island. While Dad seems frustrated and tired, Rosalie is obviously devastated about something. Mom's just trying to comfort Rosalie.

"_Che succede?_" I walk over to Pops.

He puffs out his cheeks and scrubs his hands over his face. Like me, he's still in his sleepwear. "I don't even know where to begin." He stifles a yawn, and I sit down beside him. "And you look like you just got pussy."

"Dad—Jesus!" I hiss. Do I have a fucking sign on my forehead or what? For the record, I sure as hell didn't get pussy. I don't know, maybe I got something better…

He smirks wryly and cups my neck, bringing me a bit closer. "Don't forget who changed your diapers, _tesoro_. I know my own son."

I cock a brow. "Ma changed my diapers."

"Touché." He grins and sits back again, stretching his arms above his head. Another yawn follows.

"Seriously." I lean forward and rest my elbows on the table. "What's up with Rosalie?" Looking over my shoulder, I see her snot-sobbing and talking gibberish through wails.

"She got some bad news this morning."

I look to him in question.

He sighs. "Emmett—he was found dead last night outside'a Chicago."

My mouth opens then I close it again. My father's face is unreadable, almost casual, not wearing a particular expression at all. Somber, but…still like it's any other day. And I can't help but wonder…

The only thing Pop ever told me a those weeks ago was to tell people he was in Kansas City when he was really in Chicago. And then there was the time Felix and Dad asked me all those questions about Emmett and EJ and Chicago, and about what I'd seen… On three occasions, I saw Emmett and EJ meet with Chicago people in seedy places. The first time was just an accident; I was out with Francis, and the two of us saw Emmett pull in at a motel way off the Strip. He met with some guy there in the parking lot, exchanged envelopes, and then drove off. The only thing that made me even notice something was outta place was the Illinois plates on the other guy's car. The other two times was EJ, the last time being when I confronted him outside the Dunes.

"Um…" I shift in my seat, wanting to ask more about it.

"Don't, son," he says softly, always perceptive. "Keep it to yourself—don't ask."

Pursing my lips together, I nod with a dip of my chin.

_Fuck_.

"So…what about EJ?" I ask hesitantly.

"That's why Rosalie's here," he answers, also resting his elbows on the table. "Apparently, EJ went nuts—lost it, and started trashing the house after they found out about Emmett. Freaked her out. Anna's visiting Rosalie's family in Florida, so…after EJ took off, Rosalie came here with Teresa."

I don't know what to say.

I don't know what to _think_.

"Felix wants to talk to you soon—in a couple days," he tells me, keeping his voice low. "Nonno and I will be there, too."

My brows knit together. "What's it about?"

"You'll see."


	19. Vendetta 9

**Special thanks to Lisa, Kitty, and Francesca :) And thank you all so, so much for reviewing. I love reading them, and they matter a lot to me :) Lastly, I put up the character sheet on my WordPress a few days ago - link on my profile.**

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**Grand Vendetta**

**Chapter 9**

**Translation:**

_Bella micina/mia bella micina = _Beautiful kitten/my beautiful kitten

_Tu maledetto stronzo! = _You fucking bastard!

_Nient'altro che schifosa monnezza—ecco quello che sei! _Nothing but fucking scum—that's what you are!

_Datti una cazzo di calmata!_ = Fucking cool it!

**Hummingbird's POV**

"Elisa!" I call as I place the container into a tote bag. Outside the kitchen window, I can see Sal and Carmine smoking and talking; I couldn't have done it better even if I'd planned it.

"Yeah?" she responds, walking into the kitchen.

I turn and smile at her. "Can you take this casserole over to Rosalie's?" I slide the tote across the kitchen island. In my periphery, I can see Junior paying attention, though he hides it well by focusing on his newspaper.

"Mom, her house is full of casseroles," Elisa sighs. "And you've already left four—one each day since…" She trails off, a sad look on her face.

Yeah. One each day since they found Emmett's body washed up somewhere at Lake Michigan.

Junior says it's probably the Chicago Outfit that killed him.

I'm sure he's right. I wouldn't know.

"Please just do me this favor," I say and walk around the island to hug her to me. Death is natural, and frequent in our family, but this close? It's not often we have to say goodbye to a family member this close. "Go out to Cawmine." I wink at her. Maybe she can "console" Carmine. He's sporting a black eye after a fight at Dawn, and I know Elisa's dying to see him again. Carmine, not Anthony. No, it's the opposite with her brother. There's some beef there, and they refuse to tell me what it is. "He'll drive you."

She blushes and takes the casserole.

"No, he won't," Junior chuckles, eyes still on his paper. I frown at him, willing him to look up, but he doesn't. "That was cute, hummingbird. It's not gonna happen, but it was cute."

"What're you talking about?" I ask innocently.

Finally, he faces me. Oh, that smirk. "You didn't know? Carmine came to me—wans'ta take out _my_ little angel." He points to his chest, and his smirk is replaced by his sinister smile. "Ova' my dead fuckin' body." I glare at him, and this time he points out the window. "_Angioletto_, Sal will drive you to Rosalie's. End'a discussion."

"But, Daddy—"

"Don't test me," he snaps.

Elisa gives me a pleading look, but there's little I can do. Obviously, I will try to talk to him, but it's still Junior's decision.

With tears welling up in her eyes, our daughter stomps out of the kitchen with the food for Rosalie. Shortly after, the door is slammed shut.

I give my husband a look.

"What?!" he shouts and widens his arms.

"She likes him," I tell him, placing my hands on the island top. "I don't see the harm—"

"No, you don't." A pointed look. "But _I_ do. I know." He taps his temple.

"Juniuh, he came to you—respected you enough, and in this day and age…" I chuckle darkly, thinking about the guys who are so much worse, just waiting to exploit our baby girl.

"Respected me enough?" He smiles. "One might wonder where that respect was when he shoved his tongue down our daughter's throat."

I bite my tongue; I didn't know my husband was that well-informed.

"He's lucky to be alive," he says flatly and pushes away the paper. "I don't wanna hear another word on the matta'." He wipes his hands clean. "It's done, and Carmine has already been reassigned to your brother."

Looking out the window and then back to my husband, I connect the pieces. "Jesus Christ! Cawmine wasn't in a fight at Dawn, was he? _You_ hit him."

No response—just that stony expression.

"Can you please just explain it to me?" I beg.

His eyes soften, and I know he's coming around—Thank God. Not to the idea of Elisa and Carmine, but at least he's about to give an inch, explain to me.

"Hummingbird…" Reaching across the island, he takes my hands in his and gives them a squeeze. "I don't want our baby near any of this. Firstly, she is too young to think about guys." I bite my tongue again, wanting to point out that Anthony was younger than Elisa is now when he first started with the girls. Now? Who knows how many broads he's been with? He's probably over at Dawn right now. I mean, I've barely seen him in the past few days. "Secondly," he says, lowering his voice, "I refuse to have her marry a connected guy." Oh… "It won't happen, love. You know enough—why you're pushing for this is beyond me. But there's more than that—than what you see. And I don't want that for Elisa."

I nod slowly, processing, and sit down on a stool. With the past I have…yeah, I know a lot more than most women in this lifestyle. I was a goomah myself once, and I met others who were just like me. Emmett—I remember Angela, one of his mistresses. Heidi, of course—God rest her soul. The glint in Felix's eye never returned after she died, and I sincerely doubt he's faithful to Gianna now. They hate each other, for fuck's sake.

Most wise-guys have pieces on the side. Pieces like me and Heidi—what we once were. Strippers—there to pleasure Felix's guys. Junior happened to be my guy.

There's more, too. The late hours, the worrying, the never knowing, the secrecy, the lies…

It ain't easy being married to a made man, that's for sure. And…I don't want that for my Elisa. I'm lucky to have Junior, but he's a rare one. There's no way to guarantee Elisa will be as lucky.

"You get what I'm saying?" he murmurs.

I nod again; I do get it.

"She's better off. Less drama, no headaches…" He stares off into space, a small crease between his eyebrows. "The shit I deal with…"

I can't help but smile, 'cause this is one of those times when he mutters stuff to himself, and when I ask what he's talking about, he'll just say his regular "No matta', hummingbird." Gently slipping free from his grasp, I go about my day and start writing a list of things I need to get from the store. Emmett's funeral is only a few days away, and just the day before, we have Anthony's seventeenth birthday, too. Emmett would've been in the ground by now if it hadn't been for the Chicago PD delaying it all.

"I mean, they're all really the same." The husband keeps muttering, much to my amusement, and I list off Anthony's favorite foods. I gotta take the opportunity to go shopping while Dominic and Julia are visiting with their grandparents. "Don't matter how often I say it—mind yo' fuckin' business, and yet… _Always_ ends up in my lap." Tapping the pen against my chin, I try to come up with why our oldest son has been acting all weird lately. "Back in the day? I had to deal with Alec's comare when she blew up." He's wearing this smile that never really leaves. Anthony, I mean. And I hope—God, I hope—it has nothing to do with the cheap women at Dawn. But what else could it be? "Then Gianna's petty bullshit about Francis—that poor kid…" Our son is hardly a guy to settle for _one_ girl. No, that would make Mommy happy. Giving her grays is much more fun. I roll my eyes. Thank heavens for hair dye. "Now Jasper's crap?" I frown and tilt my head. "Felix ain't happy, but what's he gonna do? They're married. Alice is Jasper's to deal with—regardless of who he fucks." I stiffen, certainly paying attention now. "Jesus Christ. If I hafta get in the middle, I'mma end up shootin' someone. Muthafuckin' drama."

"_Ciccino_." I smile sweetly as my husband looks up.

"Hmm?"

"I'm just gonna go to the store and pick up a few things for Anthony's party," I say softly, though I'm boiling underneath it all. "Anything I can get you?"

"Huh? Oh, uh…no." He gives me a quick smile and stands up. "I'll be in my office. Tell Carmine to drive you, by the way."

I nod and kiss his cheek. "See you later, Juniuh."

He disappears down the hall, calling a "_Ti amo_" over his shoulder.

I'm too furious to respond.

Knowing that Carmine and Sal won't drive us to any of the clubs our family owns, I call Alice and ask if Jasper's there. He isn't, so I call him at Dawn and tell him I have something important to discuss with him at his house.

_"I'm busy, Bella,"_ Jasper groans.

I smile darkly. "I'm not asking, Jasper," I sing. "Get home. Don't deny your little sister this." With that, I slam the phone down and storm outta the house, my hands balling into fists.

Mind your business, my husband always says…

Well.

**Anthony's POV**

As soon as I leave Enzo's kitchen, I feel like a huge weight has lifted off my shoulders, and I gotta wipe my clammy hands on my thighs. _Jesus Christ_. He's been away on business, so I couldn't talk to him until now, and had I shown up all over the place with Gabriella, it would've gotten back to him. I've essentially acted like Carmine—gone behind Enzo's back to be with his daughter. However, I lucked out whereas Carmine didn't. Thank God. I don't want that prick to touch my sister.

Enzo told me I was welcome to date his daughter as long as I treat her with respect and honor our relationship. Like my father, honor and respect are huge.

"How'd it go?" Gabriella asks me, meeting me outside Dad's office. She looks nervous, although I told her before she didn't have to be.

"Good." I touch her cheek. "You ready to go?" Gabriella sometimes pitches in as a waitress or she's her father's helper in the kitchen. "We could get some pizza." I have a few hours before I gotta be at Felix's house.

I'm his new driver.

"I thought you were gonna talk to Elisa," she says, giving my palm a kiss.

I suck my teeth. "You had to remind me, huh?" I chuckle and wrap my arms around her shoulders, and she buries her face in my armpit, the little weirdo. Truth is, my sister's been more than compliant. I told her my plan was to talk to Gabriella's father before we announced Gabriella and my relationship. Yeah, at first I was basically ready to just face the world or whatever. But then I used the head on my shoulders and figured it was best that Enzo found out first. So…Gabriella and I have both avoided my house, and Elisa's bitching with me because I'm "stealing her friend."

"She's being difficult wid'me," she huffs, snaking her arms around my middle. "I told her she's still my friend—that not everything will be about you when I come over. She doesn't believe me."

I grin into her hair. "What'chu talking about? _Everything_ will be about me. Don't think any different. Just dump my sister."

She giggles and playfully slaps my chest. "Funny you. I'm serious hea', Anthony. We actually fought yesterday, and I don't like causing a rift between youse. Oh, and she called me a pushova' for 'giving in to your advances.' Some shit like that." Now she looks mad, like an adorable little kitten. "Can you believe her?"

"How did you respond?" I laugh, enjoying this side of her. Gabriella is usually soft-spoken and sweet, pretty shy too, but I'm beginning to see another side as well. She's got balls. She's feisty.

A couple days ago, one of the new waitresses hit on me, but my girl set her straight. It was a cute sight, not to mention fucking hot. She was all, "Stop lookin' at my man." _Madonn'_, she knows how to make my cock hard.

"I just called her a brat and walked away." She sighs and drops her forehead to my chest.

"I'll talk to her tonight after dinner," I murmur. I tilt up her face and kiss her on the lips. "_Bella micina_." She takes on a dazed expression, and I nudge her into my pops' office for some privacy. Once the door is closed, I press her up against it and lock the door with a quiet _snick_. "That's you, baby—" I kiss her fingers "—_mia bella micina_."

Dipping down, I claim her mouth, sliding my tongue against hers, while my hands grab onto her luscious ass.

"Fuck." I groan. "Can I touch you?" Since we've been lying low, I haven't exactly had the chance to be alone with her a lot—especially not in a bed—and my balls will explode if I don't get my hands on her soon. "You gotta tell me how far I'm allowed to go." I squeeze her ass and grind my dick against her stomach.

"Anthony, I'm not completely innocent—you can touch me," she moans into the kiss. "I want you to."

But I fucking stop. Breathing heavily, I grab her jaw and break away from her. I stare down at her, mind spinning. "What's that suppos'ta mean—not completely innocent." My jaw clenches at the thought of other motherfuckers touching what's mine. Kissing—fuck, I can accept that, I guess, and I've already drawn that conclusion, that she's kissed before. But more than that? What the _fuck_?

"Oh, um." Her cheeks flush, visible even with her natural tan, and she bites down on her lip. "There was one guy…"

"Who?" Internally, I'm seething. And consider my hard-on dead. "And what did'ju do?"

"Anthony." She gives me a look. "You wanna talk about past conquests? Really?"

I chuckle darkly. "Don't be cute." Unlike girls, guys fuck with one goal—to get off. That's it. Girls want hearts. "That's different." My past doesn't mean a fucking thing. But if Gabriella's been with some other dude, feelings must've been involved.

She rolls her eyes. "It was one guy last fall. We kissed—touched a little. So what?"

I nod and take a step back. "How little?"

"Jesus Christ." She runs a hand through her hair and scoffs. "He took me on a couple dates—we kissed, he used his fing—um." She blushes more, looks more flustered.

"He finger-fucked you?" I keep my voice low and bend down slightly to be at her level. "That's it, though?" At this point, I don't trust myself to touch her. Possessiveness like I've never felt blazes through me like a fucking wildfire.

She nods and averts her eyes.

"Did you come?" I gotta know. I also gotta know who it was. "Who was it?"

"No, I didn't," she whispers, still looking away. "And I'm not telling you who it was. You'll do something—I know it."

Damn fucking straight, I will. "I won't. But I need to know." Call me a goddamn masochist.

She shoots me a glare. "It was Jacob in my calculus class, okay?" she snaps. "He wanted more; I didn't, so I called it off."

I look down and rub my jaw, thinking. This bothers me more than I thought it could. 'Cause she's mine. Growing up, I heard how perfect Mom was for Dad—that she was a good girl and waited for my father. Pop really can't stop talking about her. And since I hit my teens, Ma's been on my ass to settle for one of the good ones.

"Anthony—"

She's cut off when the phone rings.

Blowing out a breath in frustration, I tear myself away and pick up the phone on Dad's desk. "Edward Maisano's office," I bark out.

_"Thank God!"_ It's Dad. _"I need you to drive over to Jasper and Alice's. I'm on my way, too, but you're closer."_

"What's up?" I scowl. He's being all snappy and pissed.

_"Your mother's fists—that's what!"_ he shouts. _"Alice called me and asked why Isabella's demanding Jasper to get there, and then I remembered what I accidently told—fuck it! Just hurry ova' there! Fucking women, man!" _He hangs up.

"Fuck," I spit out and slam down the phone again. "I gotta go." I move toward the door.

"Wait, Anthony!" She puts a hand on my chest. Eyes pleading. "You can't just leave. I mean, is this it? Are we over? You're mad—"

I laugh, even though I feel like punching a wall. "Yeah, I'm fucking mad, Gabriella." My next words come out as a threat instead of a promise. "But no, we're not over. We'll never be over."

~oOo~

I pull into Jasper and Alice's driveway only seconds after Jasper does, and my mom's waiting for him. She and Alice both stand near the house, but as Jasper pulls over to the side, my mother starts walking toward him.

Frowning, I park a few spaces behind Jasper and get out, wondering what's up. But then I figure it's best to ask questions later, 'cause Mom takes off in a run. With fury flashing in her eyes. Toward Jasper, who, judging by his stance, is confused. Even wearing a dress and high heels, Ma's goddamn fast.

"_Tu maledetto stronzo_!" She reaches him and smacks the side of his head. Hard. "How could you?!"

"Oh, shit." I take off, too. Though, not fast enough. Mom whacks Jasper wherever she can, while he's covering his head and shouting at her to stop. "Mom! What the fuck?!"

"Think you're so slick!" Mom actually spits on Jasper. Then she removes one of her heels and throws it at my uncle's head. "_Nient'altro che schifosa monnezza-ecco quello che sei_!"

"Bella!" he yells angrily. "Goddammit!"

"Mom!" I reach them as Mom's going for her other shoe, and it's high in the air when I slide an arm around her waist to pull her back.

"No! You let me go, Anthony!" She throws the shoe, hitting Jasper in the groin. "Cheating motherfucker!"

He groans and doubles over in pain.

"_Jesus_." I'm in disbelief. "What the fuck is the matter wit'chu?!" I shout at her. _Cazzo_, she's a strong little shit! She struggles against me, clawing at air to get to her big brother. "Mom! _Datti una cazzo di calmata_!"

"I'm calm!" she snarls in reply. With a labored, huffed breath, she goes slack in my arms. "Lemme go."

And I make the rookie mistake of loosening my hold…

I'm so fucking dumb.

"Two-bit scumbag!" she screams, charging at Jasper once more. With her small fists, she pounds on his back and sides. "Don't you remember Mom and Dad?! You hated the shit he pulled on her!" She manages to knee him in the balls before I pull her back again. I grunt, both arms around Mom's middle. "Yeah, I'd like to see you work that needledick now, punk!"

"Quit it, for fuck's sake!" I shout.

"You're—" Jasper coughs and kneels down on the pavement, cupping his crotch "—you're lucky you're Junior's wife, Bella."

"OH!" I glare at him. "You threatening your own _sister_?!"

Mom spits in his direction.

When I look up at the house, I see that Alice is just standing there. Arms folded across her chest. A blank expression.

Just then, the sound of wheels screeching against pavement alerts us to Dad's arrival. He looks furious as he slams the car door shut and stalks toward us. Or Mom, more correctly. And for once in his life, he's not in a suit. Dad in a black tracksuit is a fucking sight. Had I not been shocked, beyond confused, and pissed, I woulda laughed.

"You okay?" He jerks his chin at me.

I nod.

Mom's fury simmers right below the surface as Dad grasps her arm and pulls her to him. "Did he touch you?" he asks tightly. She shakes her head no, and I see a flash of countless emotions flit over Dad's features. He's pissed at Mom—that much is clear—or fucking livid, but I think he's also relieved she wasn't harmed. But yeah, I expect there will be some shouting at home later.

'Cause my father doesn't tolerate sticking your nose in someone else's business.

"Get in the goddamn car." He points in the right direction, and when she opens her mouth to speak, he grits out, "You wanna know what's best for you—don't _fucking_ argue with me." His jaw ticks.

She picks up her shoes, shakes her fist at Dad behind his back, and walks toward the car.

I stifle my grin.

"We cool?" Dad gives Zio Jasper a hand and helps him up. "She got you good, huh?"

Jasper doesn't say anything; I think he's too murderous and in too much pain.

It's humiliating to take a beating from a woman.

He just nods with a dip of his chin and then looks toward the house. Just as Alice turns around and disappears inside. Like nothing's happened.

"How about we meet up at Dawn?" Dad looks to him, maybe reading his face. I don't fucking know.

"Nah, I'm good." Jasper brushes off some dirt from his pants, wincing. "I'll have a talk with my wife—"

"Let me rephrase. We're going to Dawn." Dad scratches his eyebrow with his car key. "You won't step a foot in that house and take out your anger on Alice."

Other than Jasper gritting his teeth, there's no response.

Dad lets out a whistle, catching my attention, and I face him. He tosses me his keys. "Drive Mom home. I'll take your car."

I nod and hand over my own keys. "Yo, where's Sal?" It just hit me—he must've driven Ma here.

"Carmine drove her," he answers. "And I bet Mom told him to scram until she needed him."

"And that kid is gonna be my new driver?" Jasper mutters.

Dad ignores him, and I'm dismissed.

So, I drive Mom home.

She's quiet until we're almost home. Silently stewing, wringing her hands in her lap, it's as if she's miles away.

"Can you do me a favor, _topolino_?" she whispers, looking out the window.

I nod even though she's not facing me. "What?"

"When you get married, please don't cheat on your wife."

I frown and make the last turn, getting onto our street.

"I know it's common…" She lets out a soft breath. "But it destroys the good in a marriage."

Pulling up on our driveway, I side-eye her, hesitating. "Has… Has Dad ever…?"

"No." She shakes her head, and I'm beyond fucking relieved for some reason. Not "some"—I know why, but…in the past, I can't say I've given a shit. "I trust your father. He's one of the good ones—he shows it constantly."

_One of the good ones. _

Yeah, I've heard that before. In other conversations.

"Respect your wife and she will respect you in return." She nods firmly. "A happy wife makes a happy home."

I've heard her say that before, too.

"I won't betray her," I say quietly, killing the engine. I'm still green in the business, but I'm not fucking stupid. There's an unspoken law—what goes on outside the home…there are simply things we don't talk about. There's a reason wives and girlfriends aren't allowed near the clubs our family owns. What happens there doesn't belong at home. And what men do…

I snort, grinning a little to myself. "She'd kill me." Looking down at my lap, I think about Gabriella—how hurt she'd be if… "I don't want to, anyway."

I mean, I'm too young to speak about the future like that, but growing up in my parents' house has still offered me an insight, I guess. And I've seen the difference between our house and, for example, Felix's house. He's nothing like Dad is with Mom. Gianna and Felix are always bitter. Same goes for Rose and…Emmett. Well, he's dead now. I wonder if Rose is secretly happy about that or…eh, I have no fucking clue. What I do know is that I've had a good childhood.

"You talk like you already know your future wife, hon."

Oh, shit. "Uh…" I chuckle awkwardly and get outta the car. Mom follows, now staring at me intently. Fuck. "What?" I wave her off, walking up the two stone steps, and dig out my house keys. "Me—getting married? Get outta here with that shit, Ma."

She hums, entering the house first. "You're not good at lying, baby."

I'm not fucking lying. Gabriella's only been on my radar for a couple months. Come on. Way too soon to even speak about it.

_Keep telling yourself that, man._

"Who is she?" Mom faces me full-on in the foyer, hands on her hips.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Then I have her shaking fist in my face. "Don't bullshit me, son." She huffs, being all cute. "Why you gotta lie to me, huh?" She points to her chest. "Tell Mommy."

I grin, kiss her on the forehead, and walk farther into the house, aiming for the kitchen. 'Cause I'm fucking starving. "You're so nosy," I laugh. "You can make me something to eat instead." I walk backward, smiling innocently.

She cocks a brow, following. "If you tell me who she is."

I suck my teeth. "Maybe it's a stripper at Dawn or Twilight—" I dodge her hand, laughing my ass off. "Oh! What's with the violence lately?"

"What's with turning my hair gray?!" she shoots back.

"Your hair's not gray." My brows knit together and I come to a stop by the kitchen island. "What're you talking about?" She's nuts.

"It's called hair dye," she says dryly and opens the fridge. "Now, I can either make you a nice meal with this delicious entrecôte I picked up at your uncle's deli—" she holds up a meat packet with Alec's deli's logo on the white wrapping paper on it "—or you can make your own damn food."

I grimace. "That's harsh."

"Deal with it." She juts out her chin. "All I want is a name."

"Dominic? Elisa? Julia?" I grin. "I got tons of names."

"Your girl's name, you wackadoo!"

I laugh.

"_Topolino_," she whines. Then there's the pout. "Tell me. Do you really have a girlfriend? Is that why you've been on cloud nine these past few days?"

Fuck me. My cheeks heat up and I avert my eyes, wondering if she's serious. Cloud nine? Have I acted differently?

"You do have a girlfriend!" Mom's voice is accusatory, but when I look her in the eye, I see hope. And a beaming smile. "Please, please tell me!" Closing the fridge, she walks over to me and grasps my hands. "Is it someone I know? Oh, don't tell me it's Amanda—Elisa's friend. She's cute and nice and all, but…" She scrunches her nose. "You need a good, Italian girl."

"It's not her." I shake my head and sigh, then look up at the ceiling for a moment. As if I'll find answers there. As if God will spare me. "Christ." I look to Ma again and admit, "Fine—yeah, it's someone you know. A'ight?"

"Her name."

I roll my eyes.

"_Anthony_…"

"Gabriella," I blurt out. "Okay? It's Gabriella."

Her mouth pops open, followed by her eyes widening.

"Gabriella?" she whispers, astonished. "Gabriella Sindone? Enzo's—"

"Yeah." I interrupt, rolling my eyes. "You know any other Gabriella?"

"Oh, but—" She gasps, and then her beaming smile is back. "This is fucking amazing, _topolino_! Gah!" She hugs me tight, and I can't help but laugh. She, on the other hand, starts crying. "I think she can be perfect for you!" There's a squeal mixed with the tears. "She's such a sweetheart. And a good girl." She takes a step back, looks up at me, and nods with lips pursed. "Yeah, a good girl for my Anthony." She carefully swipes her fingers under her eyes and laughs a little. "Oh, you just made my day, honey."

I clear my throat. "Right. She's…she's just the _best_." Sarcasm laces my voice; I keep thinking about what she told me earlier. I mean…what if she lied? What if there's more? More dudes, more…whatever. "Her last boyfriend probably thinks the same." I smile darkly.

"What?" My mother frowns. "What's with that face?" She points to mine.

"Nuthin'." I shrug it off and go to the fridge, wanting a soda. "Just didn't know she got around—whatever."

"You mean Jacob Vitarelli—the boy she dated last year?"

"Oh—" I nod, instantly pissed. "—so you know, huh? Is that common fuckin' knowledge? Any other cat I should be lookin' out for?"

She scoffs, tears long gone. "Jesus Christ. Is that what this is about—that's she's had a boyfriend before you?"

I don't reply, anger boiling. Instead I fish out my smokes and open the kitchen window.

"If you end things with her because of that, it's your loss, son," she says matter-of-factly. "Now, I know Dad's filled you with a bunch of crap about good girls and—"

"And you haven't, Ma?" I chuckle humorlessly and take a drag from my smoke. "It's all I heard growing up—gotta marry a good girl."

She nods, conceding. "You're right. But my definition of a good girl isn't the same as your father's." She cocks her head. "You know all those times he's told you how good _I_ was?"

"Like I could forget," I say dryly.

"Well." She smirks and arches a brow. "What if I told you I was really a stripper at Dawn before he snatched me up?"


	20. Vendetta 10

**Special thanks to Lisa, Francesca, and Kitty :)**

**Special disclaimer: Ed Sr. will get a little racist in this chapter, and I want to point out that it doesn't reflect my own opinions whatsoever, nor is it meant to paint a stereotype for Italians or Italian/Americans.**

* * *

**Grand Vendetta**

**Chapter 10**

**Trivia / Truths in this chapter:**

Steve Wynn did buy the Dunes—today, it's where the Bellagio stands.

Circus Circus, a hotel and casino in Vegas, opened the Grand Slam Canyon on August 23rd in '93. It's a huge indoor amusement park, and today it's known as the Adventuredome.

What you'll read about Circus Circus being controlled by the Chicago Outfit is also true. Same goes for the piece about Anthony "The Ant" Spilotro.

Lastly, hotels and casinos known for their involvement with the Outfit: the Stardust, the Dunes, Circus Circus, the Riviera, and the Tropicana—most of these, though not all, way back, between the '50s and '70s. Or even earlier.

**Translation:**

_Moulinyans_ = derogatory slang for black people

_Pazzi_ = slang for crazy, loony, nuts.

_I giovani di oggi = _Youngsters these days.

**Junior's POV**

While my hummingbird cries into her tissue, I use mine to wipe sweat off my forehead. It's ridiculously hot out, and the last thing I want to be at is a fucking funeral. But the priest goes on and on about Emmett…

Rosalie puts on a good show; she wails and sobs and cries for her dead husband. Meanwhile, when he was alive, she couldn't stop hating him.

Felix and EJ comfort her—EJ who looks too stoic, too stone-faced.

Anna and Teresa, Rosalie's daughters, cry to themselves—more genuine.

"Bro," Alec whispers, nudging me. "Over there." I follow his gaze to the trees over by the edge of the cemetery, expecting to see Feds, but that's not it. "Isn't that…?"

I nod subtly. It's Angela—Emmett's old goomah from back in the '70s and '80s. Truth be told, I thought Emmett ended things with her. And maybe he did, but why the fuck is she here? It's disrespectful toward Rosalie.

Angela's far away, but I recognize her. And if I do, so will my wife.

A few days ago, when she whacked the shit outta Jasper, I tore her a new one as soon as we were alone that night. Personally, I don't really give a fuck, but I gotta draw the line somewhere. And I've fucking told her—if it's not our business, we stay the hell away from it. Still, my fiery wife says she don't regret it. I screamed at her, but the only thing she apologized for was embarrassing me. And…I don't know—I guess I don't care enough about this particular matter, 'cause I wasn't embarrassed. I was just pissed she went against my word. But no matter, it's all good now. We celebrated our son's seventeenth birthday the other day and it was all smiles. However, if Isabella spots Angela now—a woman she was close with back in the day—I'll have another fight, more fucking drama, on my hands, and that's the last thing I want. It ain't fucking happening.

"Get her out of here," I mutter quietly. I'd go over myself, but Isabella would notice, then she'd follow me, and she'd want to be buddy-buddy with Angela again. "And make sure she goes silently."

Without a sound, my brother slips away and heads toward the tree line.

And I return my focus to the funeral that's lasting a fucking eternity.

"This is awful, Juniuh." Isabella sniffles, whimpers, blows her nose, and leans against me. "Just awful." I hand her a new tissue and kiss her temple. "_Grazie, ciccino_. I mean, Rose is gonna let herself go completely." Some sniveling. "At least when Emmett—God rest his soul—" she does the Sign of the Cross "—at least when he was alive, Rose made sure there was food on the table. But now?" She becomes weepy again. "Poor babies."

Yeah, that's why she's sad. My wife, bless her, fears Rosalie will spend less time _cooking_.

"We'll help, Mom," Elisa comforts softly, standing on the other side of Isabella. My _angioletto's_ all teary-eyed, too. "I'll tell Rosalie I can babysit Teresa—any time. Okay?" I give Elisa an approving nod, 'cause her words are helping. "And, if you think about it…I mean, Anna and EJ don't even live at home anymore. Anna has her own life in Carson City, and EJ…"

Sighing, I glance around me—at all the people who showed up—and then take a peek over my shoulder; my little brother's currently speaking to Angela.

Looks like he's handling it.

Taking another glance around me, I spot Anthony, who appears to be as bored as I feel. But he's also anxious to talk to his girl. Every now and then, he looks over to where Gabriella stands with her family, and… Heh, I chuckle under my breath. Whenever he looks away, it's Gabriella's turn to stare. I shake my head at the youngsters. _I giovani di oggi_. Gotta be so fucking coy.

There's been some beef between 'em, but then my wife talked them down or something—I don't get involved in that shit; I don't know what it was about—but Anthony's been busy, beyond that, so they haven't talked shit out yet.

The dark circles under Anthony's eyes tell me how exhausted he is, but Felix and I won't relent. He's been assigned a job, and he's gonna carry it out. It's time to toughen him up a little. Being Felix's driver and watchdog is a good start. Isabella's asked why he hasn't been home in the past few days, but he handled that well—said he was with Francis, who covered for him.

His only break came when he turned seventeen and we held a birthday dinner for him at _Stella_. It was a small affair since it was so close to Emmett's funeral. It was only our immediate family and my parents; we'll have a party for him in a few weeks when this has settled.

But when we get outta here today, I'm sure my son will corner Gabriella to fix whatever's been wrong.

He thinks he's so smooth—that I don't know Gabriella spent the night in his room after Julia's birthday party. Good thing Enzo don't know that about his daughter, though. Hell, if Elisa had spent the night at some guy's house…

_Forget about it._

~oOo~

Afterward, we all gather at Rosalie's house—mainly, I think, so the women can gossip.

Most men head outside to the backyard, and that's where I sit now with my father. We found a corner in the shadows, two loungers, drinks…I ain't moving until it's time to go home.

"You read this, son?" Dad gives the paper in his hands a look as I loosen my tie. "That Jew, Steve Wynn—worse than the goddamn _moulinyans_." He flips his hand under his chin and then takes a puff on his cigar. "He's takin' over Vegas." I huff a chuckle and stab an artichoke heart with a toothpick and shove it in my mouth. My antipasto plate's full—great stuff from _Stella_ and my brother's deli. "He thinks Americanizing his last name will change everything? Now the Dunes will go down in a few weeks, fuckin' spectacle—and he's already got the Mirage! God knows what he'll buy next. Bet he won't stop until he owns the Strip."

"Yo, Pops!" Anthony walks over, saving me from my dad's racist mutterings. I couldn't give two shits about it. "The Sindones just took off." I wipe my mouth with the napkin tucked into my shirt and give him a look to go on. "Any chance I can leave, too? I gotta talk to, um…yeah."

"To, um…yeah." I laugh and retrieve my smokes from the chest pocket of my suit jacket. But I don't light one up. "Why you say it like that—the Sindones." I smirk up at him and lean back against the lounger. "There's only one Sindone you care about—ain't that right, _tesoro_?"

My baby boy fucking _blushes_.

"So, can I go?" he asks impatiently, fidgeting with his cufflinks. "Too fuckin' hot for a suit—_Madonn'_." I open my mouth to speak, but Anthony beats me to it. "Yeah, yeah, I know. If you want respect, you gotta wear a suit. I _know_, Dad. You don't hafta tell me. Again."

I shake my head. "You're missing the point. You can get respect wearing a fucking garbage bag." My pop nods next to me. "It's about making respect look _good_."

"Listen to your father, Anthony," Dad says. "'Cause the day wise-guys conduct business looking like street corner hustlers…" He shakes his head and returns to his paper.

"Fine," Anthony sighs. Twirling a finger, he adds, "Back to my question—can I go?"

"Did'ju talk to Felix?" I cock a brow.

"Um, yeah." He looks around as if to see if anyone can hear. Then he closes the distance and leans down. "He gave me a new gig," he says quietly. I nod for him to go on. "Joseph and I are gonna follow EJ 'round for a while."

I figured that was coming. Like I said earlier, EJ's stone-faced. He hasn't said shit about Emmett dying since the day he found out and had his tantrum, and his face tells no tales, either. And that's bothering us. Felix telling his son and Anthony to keep an eye out is good.

"Joseph's starting now," he says. "And I'mma start tomorrow morning, take over."

"You got a new car for that?" If he's gonna follow EJ, it wouldn't be safe if Anthony drove his little '92 Miata. Too conspicuous and unsafe for that job.

"Felix's hooking me up." He takes another peek over his shoulder. "And when I get home tonight, can I talk to you about somethin'? It's about—I saw some shit yesterday."

I purse my lips and point to my chest. "Does it concern me?"

He groans in frustration and sits down at the end of the lounger. "No—mother of Christ, why's it always this way wit'chu? Just because it's got nothing to do with you don't mean it's not important for you to know."

"Is this something I need to know, then?" I tilt my head, tryin'a get a better read on him. Whatever he's seen… I don't know. He will see plenty as a driver. There will always be _something_. But he can't come running to me each time and ask for advice on what to do.

When he caught Jasper fucking Milo's Carlotta—my youngest kids' driver's girlfriend—it concerned me. I also told Anthony afterward that I only wanna know if it's my business or _about_ business.

"It's about Felix," he whispers.

I make sure my expression gives away nothing. "Private affairs or business?"

In my periphery, I can see I've got my father's attention.

Anthony clears his throat and chuckles nervously. "Very fucking private, I hope—"

"Then you keep it to yourself, _tesoro_." I keep my voice quiet, not too strict. "If it doesn't interfere with my family or my business, you don't come to me." I reach forward and squeeze his neck. "And if this is about Felix's personal life, then you take it to your grave. _Capisce_?" I smack his cheek, getting a grin from him.

He nods. "All right." Blowing out a breath, he stands up and smooths down his suit jacket. "Thank you." Leaning over, he kisses my cheek. "So, I can go now?" He walks over to Dad, and I nod. "Okay." After kissing his nonno's cheek too, he gives a wave and heads for the door, presumably to say goodbye to Isabella.

"He's a good kid, son."

I sigh and light up the cigarette I pulled out earlier. "Yeah…" I couldn't agree more, really. But I'm glad we've got plenty of time before he's gotta prove himself. Time I'll use to make sure he understands how you stay on top of things. Listen, learn. Always expect another person to have a hidden agenda. In our world, it's about getting ahead. Which we don't fucking do by asking nicely.

Low-men gotta fight and show their worth.

Men in my position or higher gotta watch their backs.

"Felix has plans for him, you know."

I do know. And I'm both proud and resigned. Joseph—Felix's oldest—will probably one day hold my father's position as _consigliere_. And Anthony…

Mere weeks ago, I had no clue what the future looked like. I still don't, but the picture is getting clearer. Who other than Anthony, anyway? Joseph will make a great lawyer, but he's got no street smarts. He doesn't have that hunger for power, either. And there are no other Coluccis. EJ don't count—fucking piece of shit. Francis…good kid, but half-German.

That leaves a Maisano—part of the Colucci family for generations. My great-grandfather was actually boss before Carlisle. It's been our two families since back in the boot.

"Daddy-o!" That'd be Julia running over. She's a little outta breath by the time she plops down on my lounger, nearly knocking over my plate. I move it to the side table and stub out my smoke in the ashtray. "Hi, Nonno. What's shakin', bacon?"

I chuckle and brush some hair away from her face. Like my hair, hers is a couple shades lighter than Isabella's. "That your new catchphrase, princess? You say that whenever I see you now."

Dominic and Julia are the only two of my children who actually enjoy being kids. Anthony and Elisa are in a hurry to become adults, but my youngest—God bless 'em. Even at eleven, Julia's the same weirdo she was when she was seven. The fact that she's so tiny helps me see her as my little princess—the one she's been since she was born. And though Dominic loves to copy his big brother, I can count on him being a kid a while longer. He'd rather read his comics and…well, the dirty mags under his bed.

"I say it 'cause it's funny," she says matter-of-factly. "But everyone's so boring today." She sticks out her tongue at the people in the yard. "Dee and I wanna watch a movie or go in Aunt Rose's pool, but Mom said no."

"Youse better listen to Mama, then." I nod, thinking Isabella's right.

She sulks and steals a slice of marinated mozzarella off my plate. "Did you try the cake? It's better than this." She pops it into her mouth.

"I will. Or you could get it for me." I grin and take her hand, kissing her fingers. "Maybe a cup of coffee, too?"

"So, that's why you had kids," she giggles.

I playfully punch her chin. "How did you get so smart, huh?"

"Mama says God gave me a smart mother and that's why."

I bark out a laugh. "Oh, she said that, did she?" My fucking wife. Gotta love the woman. "You know what—you're a little ball-buster just like her, too."

She nods and widens her eyes. "Anthony said that to me befoah—that I got some set'a balls."

Dad cracks up. "He said _what_?"

"Why did he say that?" I chuckle.

She shrugs. "Cuz I took his soda. But he wasn't mad—can't stay mad at me." Now she looks proud.

"That's because you're his _piccolina_." I give one of her pigtails a tug. "How about that coffee and cake now?"

To my luck, she nods and runs off. Which can only mean one thing: she's _really_ fucking bored. 'Cause what eleven-year-old hurries to do their parent's bidding otherwise?

"Ah, some peace and quiet." I sigh and lean back once more.

Dad snorts. "You're too young to want that much peace and quiet."

"Shut up," I laugh. "And gimme some'a that." I hold out my hand for his cigar. He makes a face and hands it over. "Cuban. Nice." I take a puff, appreciating the flavor. I prefer cigarettes, but I enjoy a cigar here and there, usually provided by my father. "If there's one thing the Cubans can get right…" I trail off, and Dad nods.

Unfortunately, the peace and quiet don't last that long.

Next to trail over is my brother. Julia returns too, with my cake and coffee, and then she's off again.

"Did you try the shaved prosciutto, bro?" He sits on the lounger next to me. "Perfect, ain't it?"

I nod in reply then get to the point. "What did Angela want?" I shovel some cake into my mouth, easily recognizing one of my wife's countless recipes after almost twenty years. Fucking delicious. This is some strawberry chocolate version. Three layers and a whole lotta buttercream.

"She just wanted to pay her respects," Alec answers and lights up a smoke. I arch a brow at what he said, and he smirks. "I know. I told her she had no fucking right—wife's territory, not an old goomah's. So, she told me she wasn't some 'old goomah.' Says Emmett never ended things with her."

I roll my eyes and take a sip of my coffee. "So what, she wants money now?" Wouldn't surprise me. But it's not our responsibility. That's all Emmett.

"No, Emmett set her up—she's good." He pauses. "You know they had kids?"

"Nope. Don't know, don't care." Having kids with your mistress isn't exactly rare. Hell, I had three with Isabella. Only Julia was born within our marriage. "Unless they're like EJ. We don't need more _pazzi_ like him."

Alec chuckles. "Nah, two daughters—both under ten."

Good. That means less trouble.

Speaking of daughters…Elisa walks over, and I wonder if I'm gonna eat my statement—that daughters mean less trouble. 'Cause…as my wife has noticed that Anthony is far from the sweetheart she first thought, I've noticed the same with my angel. Elisa, still an angel, but there's a fucking devil on her shoulder.

"What's up, _angioletto_?" I squint up at her, the evening sun having found our shaded spot.

She gives me her sweetest smile, which can only mean one thing. "Daddy, you know I love you, right?"

I fish out my wallet. "How much?"

"Two hundred?" She looks hopeful.

I twirl a finger. "Try again."

"Ugh." She pouts. "A hundred and fifty?"

"Lemme save us some time." I slap a fifty in her outstretched hand. "And you're giving me a smooch, too."

"Thanks, Dad." She smiles and kisses my cheek. "But you know I kiss you for free, right?"

"OH!" Dad and Alec laugh.

And I give Elisa another fifty for that.

"You're so easy, Juniuh!" Isabella shouts from across the yard. "You even ask what she's doing with the money?"

I grasp Elisa's wrist and narrow my eyes at her. "What's Mama talking about?"

Elisa groans. "I'm going out with a few friends—that's it!"

"God, you're such a little liar!" Isabella hurries over and takes the money from our daughter's hand. Behind her, my sister's laughing with Maria, Alec's wife. "Tell Daddy who you're going out with and what you'll be doing."

"And this is why I only have one kid." Alec laughs and gets up to leave.

I give Elisa a look. _Start talkin'._

"Fine!" She stomps her foot. "Francis got us tickets to the Grand Slam Canyon."

My brows knit together and my eyes flick between Elisa and Isabella. "The new amusement park at Circus Circus that opened a couple weeks ago?"

Isabella nods, knowing too fucking much about business. She knows we don't like it when our kids go near that hotel and casino, mainly because it's still run by the Chicago Outfit. They're deep into it, hiding under other names, but we're not stupid. It's the one hotel and casino in Vegas that Chicago still has their claws in—all starting back in the '60s when Anthony Spilotro, otherwise known as The Ant, a famous mobster from the Outfit, got involved. Now, he's been six feet under since '86, but there are still others.

After having lost the Stardust back in '85 to Sam Boyd and now the Dunes to Steve Wynn, the Outfit is desperate when it comes to Vegas. Skimming money at Circus Circus is all they've got left, and with the Gaming Commission after 'em, it won't be long until the last piece'a shit outta Chicago books it. But until then, we're careful. And especially with Emmett's recent dealings with the Outfit.

"Also, it's only gonna be Francis and Elisa." Isabella juts out her chin. "But I didn't see Francis asking you for permission, _ciccino_."

I chuckle—this shit again… "Francis and Elisa are cousins, hummingbird—"

"_Third_ cousins! That's _nothing_." She turns to Elisa. "Are you gonna tell me it's not a date, huh?"

Oh, forget about it. Cousins can't date—they're just friends! Family!

My wife's being a nut.

I wave it all off and pull out two new fifties for my angel. "Elisa baby, you can go, but Milo will be wit'chu." Dominic and Julia's driver can chill in the background. Sal's getting old; guarding two kids is too much, and Carmine, that fuck, don't work for me any longer.

"Thank you, Dad," Elisa sings, and after sliding her mother a look that says "I win," she skips off.

Isabella scoffs and folds her arms over her chest. "You're gonna regret this one day, Juniuh—mark my words."

"Sure, honey." I humor her.

While she storms off, being all cute, my brother returns, leans down, and whispers something in my ear.

I look up to him in question, lips pursed.

"What do you say?" he asks quietly. "It'll take an hour—tops."

I nod slowly and glance in the direction Anthony took off minutes ago.

"He still here?" I ask.

"Yeah." He lets out a chuckle. "Mom won't stop talking about the old days."

Poor Anthony. When my mother gets going, there's no stopping her. Where they live, out in Henderson, it's pretty quiet. So, when Dad brings Mom in to town, she talks everyone's ears off.

"Yeah, all right." I blow out a breath and nod. "It'll be good for him. And give him a little something—" I subtly rub my fingertips together, indicating money. No fucking drugs, which my brother would've assumed had I only gone with "something." That's his business. Alec controls the majority of the drug trade in Vegas. "Encourage him—but make no fucking mistake." I point a finger to him. "Money's one thing—"

"I get it, I get it. What do you take me for?" He widens his arms.

Good. We don't get our own people involved in that shit. Better leave it to the desperate scumbags on welfare—they do the actual dealing. It's nothing Alec touches. The merchandise goes from him to his soldiers, and they spread it all over the city.

"If he does well, I'll include him at the next high-roller game," I think out loud, nodding. Now that Emmett's six feet under, his business has to be divided. As far as I know, Felix is giving Riley more to do. And Riley's good with gambling, casinos and shit. But I'm gonna take over Emmett's weekly poker games. It's good money, ten Gs just to sit in, but it can get a little heated when the players run outta dough. It'll be good to see how Anthony would handle that.

"Okay, I'll catch him before he leaves." Alec takes a step back. "I'll call you later."

"All right." I watch him go inside, wondering if Dominic is next to come over. After all, three of my four kids have. And I kinda miss the little fucker. It's been a while since the two of us hung out.

"Anthony will prove himself useful," Dad says pensively.

I nod once. "I know."

* * *

_**Next up is Anthony, and...amongst other things...we'll hear about Bella spilling the beans about being a stripper in a flashback ;)**_


	21. Vendetta 11

**Special thanks to Lisa, Francesca, and Kitty!**

* * *

**Grand Vendetta**

**Chapter 11**

**Translation:**

_Cugine_ = young gangster/soldier hoping to get made.

_Ciccioleone = _Term of endearment—mix between "ciccio" and "leone" which translates to cute lion.

_Oh Dio Santo, che sta succedendo?_ = Oh holy God, what is happening?

_Vieni qui, dolcezza—ti aiuto io_ = Come here, sweetie—I'll help you.

**Anthony's POV**

There's always some shit coming up when I got plans.

Before I leave Rosalie's house, Zio Alec corners me and asks me to step out with him for a bit to take care of something.

That crap turns out to be that we're gonna put some, uh…_pressure_…on one of his dealers. Show'im we mean business.

Nothing outta the ordinary.

The gig I run with my cousin Nico, even when he's in Kansas City, involves a lot of _pressure_, too. 'Cause…while being Felix's driver is a fucking honor, it doesn't exactly pay the big bucks. So, Nico and I run our own little thing on the side, although we do kick up—pay tribute—to my dad. Nico's getting settled, establishing himself, in Kansas City, but he's still on Pop's crew. So am I, aside from being Felix's driver.

It's pretty easy. We get our hands on alcohol and cigarettes, and we're talking truckloads sometimes—when we get that kind of information—and then we sell it to hotel restaurants, clubs, and even little corner shops.

When we first started, we robbed truck drivers, which got the job done, but it was all small-scale and temporary. We never really knew what goods we were stumbling onto. But now…Nico and I have done this for a while, so we know people higher up—in the management of different shipping companies and so on. And there's always some greedy fat man who wants to add a little something to his paycheck. So, we bribe them for information on what's going in and outta Vegas, and then we know exactly what kind of trucks to wait for.

There's an abundance of booze coming into this town, so we have several deals with establishments both on and off the Strip. _Stella Mia_ is one of those places, and my dad is always happy when I find another way to shave off expenses.

Nico does this in Kansas City, and I do it here—we split the earnings and pay a percentage to Dad, simple as that.

And now I suppose my father wants me to learn even more by riding with my uncle…

"Drugs is a tricky business," he tells me as we make our way north. "You wanna control it, reap the benefits. You don't wanna get sucked into it or let it drag you down. So, you keep a distance—close enough to get the money." He winks. I chuckle. "And close enough to hear the word on the street. Now, for instance, it's all opioids—synthetic drugs, and we tell our dealers to get their asses to the clubs. Been like that since mid-eighties, really. Kids wanna get all euphoric," he laughs.

I know this already—well, I know what I hear about the clubbing and the kind of drugs. Coke, even with its ever-present demand, has taken a backseat to ecstasy.

My uncle goes on about the developing—how they alter chemical makeups to avoid drug laws.

I listen with one ear, eager to get this done so I can get to Gabriella.

I even have a gift for her—help plead my case or whatever.

'Cause I've been a fucking tool—I know. Ever since Ma spoke to me… Jesus Christ! She was a _stripper_. Not only that, but she was Dad's goomah for _years_ while he was married to someone else. _Fucking bizarre._ I mean…I remember when I was little and how my dad was gone a _lot_…but to think that he was married to someone else? _Madonn'!_ I don't even know what to say—what to _think_.

_I choke on nothing, staring at her wide-eyed._

_"That's right." She folds her arms across her chest. "I moved out here and became a stripper so I could take care of Nico and Lucia."_

_"You were WHAT?!" I shout, even though I heard her clearly. Both times. "Jesus Christ, Mom! A stripper?!"_

_"Don't you dare judge me!" She waves her fist in my face; she's always good at that. "I worked hard—"_

_"Dad, he said you, you—" I splutter, not knowing what to say. Fuck! I'm in shock. And…cazzo! A stripper?! "He said you left Brooklyn because Nonno wanted you to meet Dad! And you wanted to live closer to Zio Jasper and my cousins!"_

_And Mom barks out a laugh. "Lies, topolino. All lies. Daddy wants me to look like an angel, but I'm not. Now, make no mistake—" she wags a finger at me "—he's not ashamed of my past, but he can be a cynical bastard—God bless him. He told me he didn't think you and your siblings would take the truth well."_

_"I can't fucking breathe!" I slam my fist down on the counter, causing my smoke to fizzle out in the sink. "How's that for 'well'?!"_

_"Oh, please." She waves me off. "You can be a dramatic little prick—just like your father."_

_"All right, all right." I put up my hands in caution and take several breaths to calm down. I twirl a finger. "Re-fucking-wind. Start at the beginning."_

Obviously, Mom was quick to clear my father's name, that he only loved her, not his wife, and how he was only, um…_with_…Mom, and not that other one. Apparently it was a marriage of convenience, and I've heard of that. It was a thing back in the day, "making a marriage," to bring families together or gain power some other way—in this case it was to pocket a politician from New York, or so Mom told me.

Anyway…

I wouldn't say all this gave me a new perspective, but it did explain a lot; my parents want me to find some girl who won't bring me the bullshit they went through. At least that's what Mom says, and she's thrilled about me and Gabriella together.

Everything she revealed to me…it was in many ways too much information, but I'm still glad I know now. And I promised Mom to keep this to myself—that Dad can go on with his stories about how perfect Ma is. Shit like that makes him happy.

"So, whattaya gonna give your mother for her birthday next week, _cugine_?"

"Huh?" I turn my head in his direction. "Oh. Uh, I don't know." I shrug and look out the window again. Shit, I'd forgotten my mom's birthday. I think she's turning thirty-nine. I'd ask Dad for advice on a gift, but he always gives her the same things: jewelry and a vacation for just the two of them. And if we ask him what _we_ can do, he says something along the lines of, "Be a good kid, draw her a picture, don't give her heartache."

Drawing her a picture worked when I was seven.

Whatever—I'll think of something. I got too much on my mind to worry about that now. Mainly this shit with Gabriella, but also what I overheard and saw earlier. Fuckin' Felix and Rosalie, man…

Yesterday, I came over to Felix's house to pick him up, and Rosalie was there. Gianna was out—her car was gone, and her driver too, obviously—so I thought it was weird when I saw Rosalie's car. And I didn't wanna stick my nose where it didn't belong, so I didn't ring the doorbell. But the kitchen window was open, and I heard their hushed voices.

_"You shouldn't have come here, Rose," Felix says quietly, sounding frustrated. "Where's Carlo?" That'd be Rosalie's driver._

_Looking over my shoulder, I make sure I'm alone. I remain near my car, even though I want to go closer; it's like I'm pulled in two directions. Like…mini versions of my parents sitting on my shoulders, Dad saying I should get the fuck outta Dodge, and Mom bouncing in her seat, looking all excited for gossip. _

_Busy in my internal struggle, I miss what Rosalie says next, but then I catch the end of the following sentence—something about letting Carlo go. _

_"I need help, Felix—a reason to stay," she says next. "What else do I have out here? Emmett's countless mistresses?" A scoff…then a sigh. "Maybe I should just move back to Florida—be with my parents."_

_There's a pause before, "Yeah. Maybe you should." And Rosalie gasps, like she hadn't expected him to say that. "Look, Anthony's gonna be here any minute—I suggest you stop talking in riddles and get it over with."_

_"I wonder what Bella would think about Anthony—her precious son—being your new driver."_

_I stiffen and narrow my eyes at nothing. Not that I'm worried about Rosalie outing me, but because she's got a lotta balls to say that to Felix. _

_I know it's only a matter of time before my mother finds out my intentions—that I'm joining the family—and Pop has already told me to take it as it comes. It's the way it is, and he'll be there for me when she finds out. _

_"Is that a threat, Rose?"_

_He must've had some warning look or dangerous expression despite his soft voice, 'cause Rosalie quickly replies, "No. Of course not. I'm sorry."_

_"Good call. Now, tell me why the fuck you're here."_

_"You know why," she spits out. "You really want me to spell it out?"_

_I frown, having no fucking clue. _

_But Felix obviously does, and he laughs. "Nah, I guess it's all right. You're looking for a fucking sponsor."_

_No reply from Rosalie._

_Giving my surroundings another check, I rack my brain trying to remember if I've heard that before—sponsor. I don't think I have, not in this matter of speaking. _

_"We've gone down that road before," Rose points out._

_"That was a mistake. One fucking time—had nothing to do with money or protection."_

_"A mistake that resulted in pregnancy!"_

_"We don't know that. Teresa looks like Emmett."_

_I nearly drop my fucking jaw._

_"Emmett was your brother, Felix!" Rosalie hisses. "Of course Teresa would look like both of you."_

_Okay. Okay, that's it. That's fucking it. I can't hear about this any more. Dad wins—this is none of my goddamn business. _

_Getting back into my car, I calm the fuck down for a few beats before I honk the horn. And when Felix gets out here, I won't put on some blank expression or be the picture of calm. I'll be the cheery little fucker I usually am now that I'm finally getting into the business. _

With a shake of my head, I pull myself back to the present, and I got questions maybe my uncle can answer. I can be vague enough. I think.

"Yo, can I ask you a question?"

He chuckles and stops at a red light. "Yeah, yo. You can, yo. Fuckin' kids."

I refrain from rolling my eyes and push forward. "Do you know what a sponsor is?"

Humor gone, he knits his brows together and tilts his head in my direction. "Depends. In what case?"

I purse my lips, carefully phrasing my words. "Say a woman wants a wise-guy to be her sponsor—"

"Who, Anthony?" The light turns green and he drives off again, but he keeps an eye on me in his periphery. "Who asked? I assume this ain't hypothetical."

I don't reply. My urge to just shut my fucking mouth is so instinctual.

"Christ, kid," he suddenly laughs. "If there was any doubt about who your father was, it'd be gone now." He shakes his head in amusement. "You'll make Junior proud, Anthony. Your pop and I…we're old school—Felix, Riley…all of us in our generation, but my brother—and Felix—take the prize. If you can take the code of silence seriously, you'll go far." He nods, looking pensive. "You know what he used to tell me when we were kids?"

"No." But I'm sure it was more than one thing. My dad's got a thing for tales.

"He said he didn't want the big seat—that capos live longer." He taps his nose. "But you, you'll go farther, I think. And you'll keep it old school."

"Dad isn't a capo any longer, though. Right?" Because he's so close to Felix, always at his side with Nonno.

Alec shrugs in an _eh-whattaya-gonna-do?_ way. "It's not official, but you're right. Junior's more the underboss now. He told you that, didn't he?"

Kinda. In his words, it's been implied. He meets up with the capos every week and collects tribute; they come to him at the restaurant, where he conducts most of his business. Then he does his own thing on the side. He hasn't been straight with me, but I can read between the lines, and I'm pretty sure contracts are his thing—clipping people. And now he's got Emmett's high-roller poker games, too.

"All right. Here we are." He makes a sharp turn, and we end up on a parking lot for a motel and some seedy club. "And the sponsor thing? In this case…" He shrugs and kills the engine. "It's the same thing as keeping a mistress—a comare. Only, it's a bit colder, more about money. The bunny wants sponsoring, juicing, cash to keep afloat, and in return she'll, you know—" At the height of his chest, he makes an outward punch with his fist, elbow out, and he grins like some teenager. "Win-win situation to some."

Right. So, Rosalie wanted this—to literally be Felix's whore. _Madonn'_. It's not like she don't have money. The house she lives in is worth a solid mil, and Emmett was a top earner; he brought home plenty. She's being greedy.

Then all that shit with Teresa and who might or might not be her father?

_Fuhgeddaboudit._

Not my business—I ain't touchin' that one. Like my father advises…I'll take it to my grave.

"So, what do you want me to do hea'?" I ask and get outta the car.

"We're meeting with my boy Paulie," he answers, referring to one of the guys in his crew. Then he stops and places a hand on my chest. "You come heavy?"

I nod, confused. "Always." I usually carry the small caliber Felix gave me, but Dad got me this cool .357 Magnum for my birthday—fuckin' gangster-style handgun. He said he had one back in the day, and I like the revolver kind. They're still popular, but semi-automatics sell more these days.

"_Bene_." He gestures for us to walk again. "I doubt we'll get to that, but you know." I nod for him to go on. "Yeah, Paulie—he's been having issues with this black kid who deals here. Won't pay up at all, or he's short. So, I'mma show my face. We'll leave him a message. _Capisce_?"

I nod with a dip of my chin. "_Capisce_."

Inside the smoky club, it doesn't take long for us to locate the douchebag. He tries to make a run for it, but that guy, Paulie, and I, we catch him quickly and drag him out to the alley between the club and the motel.

He looks to be my age.

"Where's my money, you piece'a shit?" Alec asks as Paulie and I hold him up. "That's two large you owe me now."

The black dude sputters apologies, useless excuses about his baby mama needing money for doctor's visits—whatever. Alec doesn't give a shit, and when he nods for me and Paulie, our fists connect with the dealer.

~oOo~

Afterward, Alec drops me off at Twilight where my new Cadillac waits for me—it's a dark red beauty, the latest one in the de Ville series. Inconspicuous but still classy, sleek. It's the car I'll use when I work for Felix.

"Thanks for the help, kid. Just took a little longer than I planned." Zio Alec slaps his hand to mine, and I grin, feeling the paper. "You gotta mean right hook—you know that?"

I smirk and smooth down my jacket, pocketing the cash, too. "Dad taught me good." I slap the top of his car. "Have a good night, unc."

"You too, Anthony."

He drives off and I jog over to the doorman to get the keys to my new car, anxious to get to Gabriella's house. It's getting late, past eleven, but I refuse to wait. Fuck it—I've already waited too long. Gotta make shit right.

However, the doorman tells me Tommy's here—he's Zia Alice's driver—and wants a word with me when I've got time. And I check my watch again, deliberating. I know Tommy's been looking for me, but I've been too busy. I still am, but… "Fuck it," I mutter. "He's at the bar?"

The doorman nods, and I enter the strip club, heading straight for Tommy at the far end of the bar. He's a few years older than me, but he's greener than a fucking mick on St. Patrick's Day.

"Maisano!" He grins when he sees me and slaps his hand to mine, warm in his greeting. My name does that. "I was hoping I'd run into you soon. I saw you at the funeral, of course, but I figured it wasn't the best time to approach you."

_No shit._

I nod and scratch my nose, giving the club a quick glance. "What's up?" I ain't conducting business out here, and it's not like I can borrow Felix's office—I hope Tommy knows that.

"I got something coming up," he says, leaning close. "Could be a gold mine." I stare at him flatly, leaning casually at the bar. "Invoices."

I nod, getting it. He doesn't have to say anything else. Sending out fake invoices to small companies usually gives some good dough, but it also comes with a risk. You gotta set up a front, a fake business, and you gotta have contact information—to make things look legit—that, even though you don't use it, can be tracked down to you. Then again, everything in our business comes with a risk.

"What's it got to do with me?" I point to my chest.

He grimaces and takes a sip from his beer. "I need funding."

Like I said, I won't conduct business here, but I _am_ interested. "Find me when I'm at _Stella_." I tap the bartop, noticing my bruised knuckles. "We'll talk, but I gotta go." The look of relief on Tommy's face is the last thing I see before I leave.

I'll talk to Dad about this, 'cause I've never had anyone working for me, so to speak. This would involve my money; therefore, I would get something out of it as well, but I wanna keep my back clear.

Once I reach my car, I get in and check the rearview mirror. I run a comb through my hair, and I locate a small packet of tissues in the glove box; that'll do for now with the blood on my knuckles. Next I get rid of my tie and jacket, then I turn the keys in the ignition and speed off.

Fifteen minutes later, I park outside the Sindones' house—a few streets away from mine—and walk up the driveway. On the way over, I paged Gabriella, so I only knock softly, knowing her family's probably asleep—not counting Enzo. At this point, it's almost midnight.

Gabriella opens after a few seconds, looking all gorgeous in indecently short pajama shorts, one of my fucking t-shirts, and her sleep-tousled hair.

Jesus fucking Christ, I think I might love this girl. My heart squeezes in some weird-ass way, and it's like I need to get close. Not want, but actually _need_. It's a relief to see her even though I saw her a few hours ago.

"You—" I clear my throat and take a step forward, giving the hem of that t-shirt a little tug. "You make this shirt look good."

In the gloom of the porch light, I see a slight blush grazing her cheeks and her mouth quirk upward, but she's still holding onto the anger she feels toward me. And I don't blame her. In fact, she's got all the right to be mad. My mother told me Gabriella should give me a chase.

"You've ignored me for days—now you wanna talk about your shirt?" Her voice is soft and quiet, yet strong. "You come here in the middle of the night, Anthony…"

"Because I couldn't wait." I close the distance some more, and I can feel the heat of her body and smell that butterscotch or toffee lotion she told me she uses. "And I didn't ignore you; I told you at the funeral—"

She nods. "You told me that you've been working. Working with what, though?" She peers up at me. "You haven't been at _Stella Mia_, and word on the street…"

"Fuck the word on the street, _micina_," I chuckle, and I'm hit with a sense of déjà vu. I think Dad has told me those exact words in the past, sans _micina_. "I'm helping my father and Felix with some stuff." I shrug. "Will you let me apologize now?" I tilt up her chin, brushing my thumb over her soft cheek. "I should've called you, and I—I had no right to get pissed when you said that about…" _the fucking Jacob douche that I still plan to pay a visit._ It's a hard fucking pill to swallow, but I can't help it—I wanna be the only fucker Gabriella sees. "I wanna make it up to you, baby," I murmur, not sure I like the pleading in my own voice. "Please?" Christ, now I'm begging, too?

Dad did warn me, though. This morning, he smirked and welcomed me to the "club" as we got ready for the funeral. He said, "Maybe you've found the one person on Earth who you'll get on your knees for. Time will tell."

"I miss you," I admit, tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear. She lets out a soft breath and her shoulders lose some of their tension. "Please let me make things up to you." Lowering my face, I rest my forehead to hers.

"How?" she whispers.

"Lemme take you places—dates…stuff." I smile nervously, 'cause I've never actually dated before. But I bet my pops can help out; he often takes my mother out. "I promise to call you from now on—if I get held up." Then I remember what Mom told me. "And my ma asked me to bring you to the house—officially, like, introduce you as my girlfriend."

Her smile is small. "She called me earlier."

Oh, fuck. "Yeah? My mother called you?"

She nods. "She said she was happy for us, but she was crying."

I'm not surprised. "She does that. What else did she say?"

Now there's a grin on her face. "She told me to break your balls."

"Christ!" I chuckle and shake my head. One glance up at the sky—_Dear fucking God, save me from my mother_. "She really adores me, doesn't she?"

"You know she does." She smiles a little bigger.

And yeah, I do know. "So, what did you tell her?" Sticking a hand in my pocket, I feel the bracelet I got for Gabriella.

"That I'd break your balls when I deemed it necessary."

"Oh-ho!" I pull her to me give her cheek a loud smooch, some laughs slipping through my lips. "I'm looking forward to that." I smirk, keeping the bracelet hidden in my closed hand. "'Cause…if you wanna break my balls, you gotta stay close—you know, within reach."

She giggles and punches my bicep. "You're such a guy, _ciccioleone_."

My gaze softens. "Say that again."

"What?" She smiles, curious. "_Ciccioleone_?"

"That's the one. I like it." Hesitantly, I dip down and brush my lips over hers. I swallow hard. My hands move to her hips, and I feel the soft skin there, so fucking smooth. But my right hand is still closed over the bracelet, so I figure it's time to give it to her. "I got something for you." _Cazzo_, now I'm a little nervous again. I open my hand, revealing the thin gold chain in my palm—there's a small gold charm dangling from the clasp that's shaped like a sitting cat. Not only that, but on the chest of the cat, there's a tiny diamond. I figured the cat was fitting, since Gabriella's my _micina_, my kitten.

"Oh, my God," Gabriella gasps softly. Her fingers caress the gold. "It's so _beautiful_, Anthony." Relieved, I smile and motion to help her put it on. Her own smile is wide and gorgeous, and she holds out her wrist for me. "I can't believe this—you're so sweet. But wasn't it expensive? It looks expensive."

It probably would've been—if I'd paid for it.

On the morning of my birthday, I drove Felix to a jeweler; he was picking up a gift for his mother—it's Esme's birthday soon—and I think there's a past between the jeweler and Felix, 'cause the old man was fucking terrified. So, once a smiling Felix had paid for Esme's gift, the old man pulled out a display of gold bracelets and said he wanted to treat us to something "extra." Even me—for only one reason: I was there with Felix.

Felix picked something for his goomah, I think, and I went with this for Gabriella.

"Don't worry about it," I murmur and kiss the inside of her wrist. "So…will you please forgive me, Gabriella?"

"Yeah," she whispers and snakes her arms around my neck. She's on her tiptoes, and all I wanna do is pick her up and— "I'll give you a pass. How could I not?"

I grin, beyond relieved. "You won't regret it, I promise." I'm too fucking elated for words; instead I crash my mouth to hers and kiss her deeply, moaning at the feel of her body melting into mine. "Christ, I missed you." I kiss her all over, my hands roaming. _Mine_. All fucking mine. Pushing her gently up against the wall of the house, I palm her tits, feeling the weight of them in my hands, and I swear to God, it's feels like coming home. "So goddamn perfect,_ bella micina_," I mumble breathlessly, incoherently, as if I'm completely lost. I groan and slip one hand under her t-shirt, or mine as it is, and feel the softness of her belly. "You're all mine, baby."

"Yes…" She clenches under my touch, a whimper escaping. She kisses me harder. Her fingers knot in my hair, pulling, twisting. "Oh God—_Anthony_. I want more."

"_Cazzo_." I hiss through gritted teeth and grind my dick against her. She's not the only one who wants more. "Spend the night with me," I murmur huskily. "Pack a bag and come home with me."

I'm sure Enzo will allow it since my parents are home. Plus, we can always say Gabriella will sleep in Elisa's room.

"Okay." She nods, breathing heavily, and I touch her thoroughly-kissed lips before I peck them a little. "Give me ten."

~oOo~

It's when I back out of the Sindones' driveway that Gabriella sees my bruised knuckles.

I know, because I hear her gasp and follow her gaze, but she doesn't say anything and the silence grows slightly uncomfortable. 'Cause I'm waiting for her to ask what happened.

And I need to lie…

Yet, she stays quiet. In my periphery, I watch as she looks out the window and chews on her lip.

I frown, wishing I were a mind reader.

"Couple fanooks tried to mug me," I chuckle as I unbutton the top button of my shirt. "Can you believe that shit?"

To my surprise, she smirks. She keeps it to herself, but I see her reflection in the window whenever we pass a streetlamp.

And not a word.

My frown deepens.

"You not gonna say nothin'?" I ask.

She shakes her head no.

That frown of mine turns into a scowl, and I wonder if she doesn't give a shit that, um, I almost got mugged.

Halfway to my house, she sighs softly. "I'm not blind, Anthony."

"What?" I turn my head in her direction. "What do you mean?"

She faces me, that smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. "I grew up in my father's house. I've heard all the stories in the book. You can spare me."

I press my lips together and focus on the road. Truth be told, I don't know what to say. I know what I _could_ say, but since I'm aware of what she's talking about, would it matter?

"I'm not putting you on the spot," she goes on softly. "If anything, I'm giving you an out. You don't have to come up with stories. In fact, I prefer you didn't. I won't ask any questions, 'cause I've already made up my mind."

_Shit._

"What do you mean?" I repeat, slowing down the car. Pulling up behind some Chevy, I stop altogether and face my girl fully. We're officially on my street, but I wanna hear this before I go further. "Made up your mind?"

She sighs and mirrors my position, a rueful smile on her lips. "For the past couple years, I've seen the crowd you've run in. I've also heard enough to make up my mind about you. You can say whatever you want about what your work is, but I know what I believe."

I stare at her intently, wanting her to say more before I open my mouth, but I need to know one thing first. "And what's that—what is it that you believe?"

Her mood kinda frustrates me, or rather her expression. If she'd been my mother, she'd been shouting and gesturing wildly by now. But Gabriella…I think she might be different, though there's still a whole lotta fire in her.

"I _believe_, Anthony…" She leans toward me, if only a little, "…that you've got a bit more in common with my dad than being in the restaurant business."

She's basically saying she thinks I'm in the mob.

"Really," I reply flatly.

She chuckles and sits back again. "Really." A firm nod. "And you don't have to say anything. I know you won't—which I'm fine with. I won't bug you with questions."

Huh. I sit back too, and I'm a little stunned.

A broad who won't ask me questions about where I've been?

That's gotta be new.

Dad has told me plenty; I know I'll be allowed to tell certain things once I'm married. A wife doesn't have to testify. And so on and so on. But I don't plan on telling a woman—ever—what I'm doing. Dad doesn't—he says that's for pussies, wise-guys who run home and tell their wives everything. Granted, my mom knows things and Pop tells her _some_ shit, but it's rarely, if ever, in detail, or…hell, even the truth. No specifics. And it's to protect Ma—not to be a prick to her.

_"Just keep business and family separated,"_ Dad has told me. _"Simple as that. All your wife will need to know is that you're working—never with what. Regular joes might give a hand and the missus will take the whole fucking arm. _We_…give a _finger_, and nothing more. If you need to spill to your wife, or if your wife _makes_ you spill…then what's to say a cop won't do the same? Don't be weak—and don't burden your wife with that shit. Our job; our headache. _Capisce_?" _

Dad's right. Mom's more carefree because she doesn't know much. She doesn't know Dad was in Chicago, for instance, when Emmett got clipped. She doesn't know EJ may or may not be against our family. She doesn't know for certain where a lot of our stuff comes from. Bringing home a new TV or something, my pop might say, "It fell off a truck." That's giving a finger. He doesn't share details.

"You're thinking too hard, Anthony," Gabriella whispers, once more leaning toward me. Closer this time. She cups my cheek, and my brows furrow as I look into her eyes. Those gold flecks in the dark brown always do it for me. "I told you this to give you _less_ to think about." She drops a soft kiss at the corner of my mouth. "What I'm saying is, don't feel the need to feed me lies, just…" She gives my knuckles a glance. "Just let me tend to the wounds? Only me?"

I shudder and capture her mouth with mine. "Only you, _micina_." That's the confirmation I can give her, speaking of everything.

I'm about to say fuck it and just suggest we take this to the next level right here in the car, but two cars drive by at a speed that belongs on the highway, not a quiet street lined with millionaires' estates.

Problem is, when I look farther up the street, I see that the two cars continue up the driveway to my fucking house.

"Shit," I mutter and start the car. Getting outta my spot, I rev the engine, the wheels skidding on the pavement, and I take off in a hurry. "Shit, shit, shit." As I get closer, I see the tinted windows on the two black cars. Which makes me think it's Feds.

"_Oh Dio Santo, che sta succedendo?!_" Gabriella looks as anxious as I do get outta the car. "Are those—"

"Feds," I spit out and park behind Dad's car.

Just as Gabriella and I get out, the front door opens and I hear my mom shouting up a storm. Two Feds escort my father down the stone steps, and he's dressed in a suit, sans jacket—hardly anything odd, but at this hour? He's usually in more comfortable clothing around the house. Even my mom's dressed impeccably—still in her black dress from the funeral. But her hair's wet, like she's showered.

"No fucking respect, you motherless bastards!" Mom shouts, flipping off a Fed behind his back. "You come in to my house—"

"It's all right, Isabella," Dad barks out over his shoulder. "Everything will be okay—just call my father." He spots me and Gabriella right before he's guided into one of the cars. "Take care'a your mother, _tesoro_. I'll be home before breakfast."

I nod quickly, knowing the procedure.

"Cocky statement, Maisano," a Fed, fucking gangbuster, chuckles.

"Daddy!" Shit, that's Julia. My _piccolina_. Appearing next to Mom in the doorway, she looks like she just woke up, all disheveled in her pajamas. "Dad—Mom, where's Dad going?!"

Dad's jaw tenses, but he doesn't say a word. I can practically read his mind; Mom and I seeing this is one thing, but Julia? Jesus Christ.

If I look even a little bit suspect…I don't fucking know, but I don't want the Feds searching me seeing as I'm carrying my piece, so I pretend to be confused. "What the hell is going on, Dad? Mom?" Actually, I _am_ confused. I have no fucking clue what the cause of this is, but I do know what follows.

"Go into the kitchen, _bambina_." Mom nudges Julia inside. "I'll be there in a second—have some cake."

Next to me, Gabriella comes to life. "I'll go with her, Bella." She jogs up to Julia, who's always adored her, and grabs her hand. "_Vieni qui, dolcezza—ti aiuto io_."

"Thank you, hon." Mom squeezes her shoulder affectionately before going back to shouting at the Feds. Meanwhile, Dad's inside one of the cars and it drives off while another one, a bigger one, pulls up.

Having been through this before, I know a warranted search is next.

_Looks like this night just got longer._

* * *

**Thoughts? *smirky smirk***


	22. Vendetta 12

**Special thanks to Lisa, Francesca, and Kitty! :)**

* * *

**Grand Vendetta**

**Chapter 12**

**Translation:**

_Dimmi come hai imbrogliato!_ = Tell me how you cheated!

_Ho bisogno del tuo grosso cazzone—solo il tuo_ = I need that thick cock—only yours.

_Che Dio ce ne scampi_ = God save us all.

**Junior's POV**

"I'll be fucking damned." I scowl. "This ain't right, _tesoro_." My twelve-year-old son is _not_ supposed to beat me in poker. "_Dimmi come hai imbrogliato!_" I slam my fist down on the patio table.

Dominic laughs and shuffles the cards. "I didn't cheat, Dad."

"Bullshit!" I lean back in my seat and light up a smoke, both pissed and proud. I thought for sure I was gonna win with three motherfucking aces, but then he caught a full house on the river. He won when he dealt, he won when I dealt, he fucking won when I forced Isabella to come out here on the patio and deal. Then she'd left us, 'cause she wanted to call the Sindones for some reason. She said she was also gonna feed the dogs. "All right," I grumble and fish out my wallet, "how much do I owe you?"

"Count 'em and weep." He grins and pushes his chips toward me.

"Count 'em and weep," I mimic, counting quickly. "Listen to him—thinks he's so cool."

"Who are you talking to when you do that?" he chuckles.

"Myself!" I shoot him a glare and pull out two hundred bucks. "I'm my own best listener." I throw the money over the table. "That's your little sister's braces—part of it. Now we won't be able to afford them."

Since the summer got away from us, Isabella's taking Julia to the dentist soon, which I still don't fucking understand. She's got beautiful teeth.

"Sure, like I believe that." He smirks and cocks a brow, looking like a younger version of the man he's named after—my grandfather. "But you're a little short, Pop."

I smirk right back, glad he passed the test. "Good boy." I fish out another fifty and take a drag from my smoke. That's when Isabella comes out on the patio and serves drinks and homemade sweets. "_Grazie_, _bell'uccellino_." I pull her to me and slip my hand under her dress to palm her luscious ass. No fucking panties—whatta tease. Maybe it's time for the kids to go to bed. Well, Julia's already in bed, but…

"Did you win, _topolino_?" Isabella asks our son, leaning into me.

"Yep." He grins and pockets his money. "Dad says I cheated, but I didn't."

"He's just a sore loser," she giggles.

I pinch her ass.

But as much as I'd like to be alone with the wife, it's been a while since I spent some alone time with Dominic, so I let her go. "Gimme a kiss." She leans down for a smooch, which she hums into, and then I say, "You can go check in on Elisa. Page her—Milo will call back."

She nods, and I can see she's anxious for our daughter to come home. But for other reasons than I am. I worry about Circus Circus; Isabella worries about Francis taking advantage…of his _cousin_.

When it's just me and Dominic again, I take a sip from my scotch and ask him about school—he recently went back after summer break. It's his last year before he starts high school.

"Do I still gotta have Milo driving me when I go to high school?" he asks.

"Why wouldn't you?" I stub out my smoke then lean back again and unbutton my shirt a little. "You're still our baby."

"Anthony didn't have one at my age," he points out.

I shrug. Back then, it was calmer. "Milo will drive you until you get your own license. End'a discussion. Now, tell me more about school." Fuckin' private school—my kids better like it. "You like your teachers?"

~oOo~

An hour later, Dominic's gone up to his room to play on his Game Boy and I'm letting this long-as-fuck day settle by diving into the pool. Fuck changing into swimwear—my black briefs are just fine.

Resurfacing, I push back my hair and yell for Isabella to join me and bring towels.

By now, it's completely dark out, so when Isabella's silhouette emerges from the lit-up house wearing nothing but a black bikini…_Madonn', her tits are all pushed together_…she looks like a fucking angel. A sinful one, but an angel nonetheless.

"Get in hea', hot mama." I swim over to the edge and offer her a hand, 'cause unlike men, women gotta use the ladder. The wife also feels the need to get all nice for the pool. She's put on more lipstick and done her hair thing—fluffing and shit. Which is hot as hell, but unnecessary. Then again, I dig that she takes time to get even sexier for me—even after all these years. "Julia and Dominic still upstairs?" I gather her in my arms and chuckle when she complains how cold her crotch is. "That's why you jump—not use the steps." I bite her chin, reminding her, "The kids?"

"Yeah, upstairs—Don't get my hair wet. I just went to the salon the other day." She clings to me as I wade toward the deep end. "Elisa should be home soon, too. Don't know about Anthony, though. That boy's never home these days."

"Friends are more important than his parents at his age." I nip at her jaw, about to reach her mouth, but she stops me.

"Just a sec." She takes some rubber band thing off her wrist and pulls up her hair in a high, messy bun. "Okay—" she smiles all wide "—you were sayin'?"

I shake my head, amused, but say nothing.

Then I tilt my head and kiss her hard, pulling her closer to me. For a moment I ponder walking us over to the edge, but the middle of the pool works just fine. Isabella is all but weightless in my arms, and no wall means my hands can go wherever.

With her feet locked behind my back, I grind my hardening dick against her pussy, my hands grabbing at her soft, round ass. I groan, loving that fucking thing.

"_Ciccino_," she moans breathily, "Elisa will be home any minute." I grunt in response and slip a hand between us, finding her hot and slick underneath her bikini bottoms. "God, really? Here?"

I tug down my briefs and push her bottoms aside, then grab my cock and say, "Lemme stick it in there," and thrust forward. "Oh, _Christ_." I hiss, moving her over me and shifting my hips at the same time. "We gotta fuck in the pool more often."

She giggles then cups my face and gives me a bruising kiss, like she's fucking desperate.

I'm known to fuel her like this, and I _never_ fail to deliver.

"Damn," I pant, "you're fucking intense, baby. Move with me."

She hums and digs her heels into my ass, rolling with me, and she takes me so goddamn _deep_. And in the meantime, I play with her ass, never getting enough of it. Cocks don't fucking belong in there, but my fingers are drawn to it like magnets. I wanna consume her, crawl under her skin, and set up camp.

"So good," she whimpers, throwing her head back. A low groan rumbles in my chest, and I lower my mouth to her exposed neck, sucking and biting at her flesh. The water splashes around us, so I take a few steps toward the shallower end. Then her big tits are above the surface, teasing me, making my mouth water. "_Cazzo_, I want more, Juniuh."

I spit out a curse, needing more, too. "Let's go over there." I jerk my chin to the ladder by the shallow end and lose my briefs completely. "I want you from behind."

She squeals and gets all excited and playful, so I chase my woman over there. But the wife is slow since she doesn't wanna get her hair wet. Ducking below the surface, I slide up her body and bite her ass. I laugh, almost choking, and I hear her shriek even though I'm underwater.

"JUNIUH!" is what I hear when I resurface. There's fire in her eyes as she rubs her ass, the spot I'd sunk my teeth into.

"Don't even try to look pissed," I laugh, pressing her against the wall near the ladder. Here, the water is only thigh-high. "Drop the bottoms—the top, too." She does, and I throw them somewhere behind us. Picking her up, I tell her to place her elbows and forearms on the smooth edge; her breasts rest there, too, and when I look, I just wanna stick my cock between them. All smashed together and big—_mamma mia_. "And this fucking ass." I knead it roughly and slap my cock across it. "All mine. We clear on that?" She nods and looks to me, over her shoulder. "You want me to fuck you? You need it good?" Giving my cock a few hard strokes, I squeeze out some pre-cum and smear it over the wet cheeks of her ass. "Fucking hell—look at that. Love my cum on you."

"Jesus, _ciccino_," she whines. "Give it to me."

"Beg me."

I grip my dick and tease the entrance of her pussy. In response, she pushes her ass up higher, standing on her toes. _Perfetto_.

"I said beg, hummingbird. Beg your husband to fuck you—to give you cock."

"Oh God," she breathes out, trembling. "Please, Juniuh. _Please_ fuck me. _Ho bisogno del tuo grosso cazzone—solo il tuo_."

I groan and drive into her with a swift push of my hips.

Gripping her hips, I hold her up; her feet aren't even touching the bottom of the pool. She hooks them around my calves instead, and then I pound into her roughly.

Over and over, I watch as my dick disappears into her. She clenches around me, only making things better—_tighter_. And her moans… Outta this fucking world.

"Perfect fucking pussy," I mutter breathlessly. Still close to weightless in the water, I snake my arm around her waist and hold her up without much effort, then I use my free hand to rub her clit, needing to feel her come on me.

I love her pleading moans.

Next, I fuck her slowly. Because…ironically, that will get her off faster. And I'm already close. Rolling my hips, I grind into her and reach spots that make her quiver and shake. Inch by inch, my slicked-up cock moves in her. Had it been light out, I woulda seen every vein on my dick glistening with water and her juices.

"Oh, my—" She chokes on a gasp, and that's it. Her pussy tightens throughout her orgasm, and it almost feels like she's sucking me in. Yet, I keep the same tempo. Fucking her slowly. Deeply. Not stopping.

Until I explode myself.

Holding my breath, I deliver a few more thrusts and let go, spilling into her jerkily. I get goose bumps, my breathing's all heavy, and I groan and groan and groan, addicted to the wife's pussy.

The way she always makes me crave her…

"_Madonn'_," I pant, dropping my forehead to her spine. "This shit just doesn't get old."

Isabella laughs, outta breath too, and turns to face me. Which means my dick is now in cold water. "Well, that's a relief to hear."

I huff a chuckle and draw her close. "You know what I mean." I kiss her on the forehead, a bit chilly now. "So…you, me, a bottle of wine, some Sinatra…?" Judging by the way her eyes light up, I'd say she's good to go. I smile and pop another kiss—on her cheek this time. "You go inside—I'll turn on the heaters on the patio." It's not really necessary; well, not for long. Las Vegas is still hot in September. But at this point, I need heat. My _balls_ need heat.

"Okay, I'll hurry." She's quick to get outta the pool, and I groan and bite down on my knuckles, seeing her naked body like that.

Unfortunately, she covers herself up with a towel too soon. Then she disappears inside.

Taking my time, I jump out of the pool too, and walk over to the loungers where my clothes and another towel wait for me. I just wrap the towel around my hips, then switch on the heaters lined up along the patio.

As soon as the first notes of "I've Got You Under My Skin" filter through the air, Isabella joins me outside and we end up on one of the loungers together. While she pours the wine, I pull a blanket she brought with her over our lower bodies.

"I preferred it when you were naked," I murmur, brushing my knuckles down her bare arm. She's in some purple cotton dress now, and while there's plenty of cleavage… Can't really blame a bastard for wanting it all, right?

She ignores that comment and says, "I love having you home."

"I'm always home nowadays," I laugh, leaning over her to grab my wine. She's crazy. If I'm home even more, she'll get sick of my face. "I hound you for each meal of the day." All right, maybe that's a stretch. I'm not always home for dinner, but that's about it. I leave the house around after lunch, get home around seven on slow days and three in the morning on busy days. Slow days and busy days…I'd say they're split even.

I'm always at one of three or four places: Felix's office at Twilight, though I'm more often at my own office at _Stella, _home…and the occasional trip outta town. Soon I'll also spend some time in a hotel room at the Flamingo every week where I'll be taking over Emmett's poker games.

It's good money. Especially when the players' money runs out and they need to borrow more…

"If I could, I'd keep you in my pocket all day." I wink at her and take a sip of my wine. Sometimes I gotta reassure the wife a little, and that's fine. In moments of doubt, she wonders if I hang around Felix's club to watch strippers all day, which couldn't be farther from the truth. Isabella's voluptuous body's all I need, can handle, and want.

Like watching strippers would pay for this house, the jewelry I give my wife, the clothes she buys for us, and the vacations we take.

"You speak such bullshit, Juniuh," she giggles and snuggles against my chest. "Could you imagine having me in your office when you meet with…associates?"

I snort a laugh. "You'd fuss over them, tuck napkins in their shirts, and force feed them since you think everyone in this world is malnourished and skinny." I nuzzle her damp hair, grinning to myself.

But in truth, it'd be a disaster. Isabella doesn't know the guy I am outside the house. Here…I can be a married man, a father, one who dotes on the family, but out there? Forget about it.

When some people—pussies, in my opinion—say sappy shit like they leave their hearts with their women, they say it to be romantic. Definitely not to be manly, that's for certain. But if I were to say that? I'd actually mean it. My heart goes out for my immediate family—and I leave it behind when I go out. That's it. No romance about that what-so-fucking-ever. I haven't been called a cold-hearted motherfucker for nothing.

I didn't get to where I am today—business-wise—by being pleasant.

"I could be your partner," she jokes.

I smirk and say nothing, knowing her claws would come out if I said the truth.

A crime family run by women? _Che Dio ce ne scampi_.

I know it happens; there are exceptions. Especially in Italy. There are the "sisters of omertà"—women, usually relatives, who mafiosi trust to take care of things while they're either on the run or they're imprisoned. But that doesn't mean _I_ agree with it—neither do Sicilians like me. If you go to Naples, women are more common, sadly. But you can't compare the Camorra, the mafia in Naples, and Cosa Nostra, the Sicilian one. There's more structure and order in Cosa Nostra. _And no fucking matriarchy_.

My dad actually used to joke about my mother's stubbornness and feistiness since _her_ mother's family is from Sorrento, a town close to Naples. My nonna on Ma's side later met a Sicilian and they moved to America.

History shows that some women can be as ruthless as men—not to mention more protective of what's theirs—but those are rare cases. In my opinion, it's only a matter of time before they cave and maybe even bring down their families by becoming _pentiti_—rats, state witnesses.

Isabella would fight 'til her dying breath for our kids—and me—but what she'd do if any of us was harmed is what you call a crime of passion. Nothing calculated about it.

Women belong at home, where they can do what they do best: take care of the family.

"Drink your wine, hummingbird," I chuckle, and then remember… "Hey, where the _hell_ is Elisa?"

"Oh." Isabella's cheeks actually flush—something that doesn't happen often, if ever. Maybe that's where Anthony's gotten it from, though it only happens when I tease him about his girl. "Um, when I went inside earlier, I saw her bag in the foyer. She must've come home while we…"

That shit cracks me up. "Our poor baby girl."

Still…it wouldn't kill Elisa to come down now and say hello. The music playing in the living room must've tipped her off that we've left the pool.

"I went up and knocked on her door—wanted to say hi and ask how her night's been with Francis…" She sighs and twists her mouth in a small grimace. "She said she didn't wanna talk to gross people."

My amusement is fucking gone. "She did _not_ say that." I set down my glass. "She didn't use those words."

_Disrespectful motherfucking brat!_

"She did." Isabella nods, frowning down at her own glass. Then a one-shouldered shrug. "Whattaya gonna do? She's a teenager. Nobody wans'ta see their parents like that—not that she did; she said she just heard us."

I scoff and shake my head. "Fuck that. I understand the escape to her room, but what she said?" Un-fucking-acceptable. Had I said something like that to my parents when I was a kid, my pop woulda punched me in the face. "I'm grounding her ass tomorrow. End'a story." I make a swift sweeping motion with my hand.

"We could always use some help at _Stella_. Some waitressing…?" The wife smirks.

I nod, liking that. "Free labor—good thinking, _bell'uccellino_."

"Oh!" She sits up straight. "Did'ju hear that? The phone's ringing."

I watch as she runs inside, and I snicker 'cause that is just so Isabella. God forbid she misses out on some gossip by not hearing the phone go off. Though, I don't know who it could be at this hour.

Soon enough, Isabella returns—with the cordless. She's turned down the music, too.

I raise a brow in question.

She shrugs and says, "Your brother." And gives me the phone.

"What's up?" I cradle the phone between my shoulder and cheek.

_"Called to catch up a bit,"_ Alec says—too flatly for a social call. _"You remember back in the day when I took my girl to that restaurant—you met up with me afterward?"_ My brows knit together, and while I get that he's speaking in code, nothing rings a bell just yet. _"Kate, that was her name." _Okay. Okay. Now I'm with him. Kate died—car bomb outside a restaurant. Then…he showed up at Dawn, back when it was my club. _"I just drove by—where you met up with me." _Dawn. _"Did'ju know they've got a new owner?" _Jasper. Not that he's new.

"Yeah, what abouddit?" I ask casually.

_"Looks like he's got problems. When I drove by—fucking pigs took him for all he's worth."_

I frown. _Took him for all he's worth… Took him… Pigs—_ And it hits me. "Can't fucking believe this," I spit out, instantly furious. Pigs = cops. Or maybe Feds in this case, I don't fucking know. "You sure they're not just roughing him up a bit before leaving?" As in, bringing Jasper in for questioning. That's a helluva lot more common than making an actual arrest.

_"Nope—I'm sure. Just giving you a heads up." _Alec sounds impatient, so I have a feeling he's gonna head over to his deli and…well, clean up. In case someone should stop by.

"Thanks for calling, little bro," I sigh and hang up.

Isabella's watching me with an eyebrow raised.

I massage my forehead, knowing the authorities might show up here next. God only knows what they could've taken Jasper in for, but those goddamn Feds tend to bring in every known wiseguy just because they can.

"You was talkin' in code," the wife says, daring me to defy her with that look in her eye. "What did Alec say?"

I want her to focus on _us_, so I don't mention the fact that her brother's been arrested. Instead I say, "Feds're at it again. They might come over to search the house." Gathering my clothes, I discard the towel and pull my pants on, then my shirt. "Go put something else on." I point at the patio door. My wife ain't showing that much cleavage around people.

Suddenly in a hurry, I go inside and head to my office. There's only one thing I need to hide in case of a search, and I need to deal with that stat.

~oOo~

Twenty minutes later, I'm in the kitchen washing dirt outta my fingernails and Isabella's muttering about her "poor flowerbeds" in the backyard.

"What did you hide, anyway?" She scowls and opens the fridge.

While I was outside, the wife showered and got dressed—I think it's the dress she wore at the funeral today, or maybe a similar one. Regardless, it's more modest, so that's good.

"Don't ask, hummingbird," I say and dry my hands. I have a regular hiding spot for a small safety box when I need it, and it happens to be between two rose bushes in the yard. "Go talk to the children; tell them to stay in their rooms. I'm gonna turn on the sprinklers." That way, the soil where I've hidden the safety box won't look like I've just dug through there. "But don't wake Julia."

She gives me a look.

I dismiss her with a wave of my hand, though I know my last comment was stupid. As if she doesn't know what's best for our kids. But Isabella's gonna hafta excuse me—I'm on edge. Hell, so is she. She masks her fear by acting annoyed, and I get moody as fuck, short and terse.

My night had been so fucking perfect, and then the Feds gotta ruin it for me.

And as predicted, the Feds do show up…

They haul me in for questioning.

**Hummingbird's POV**

It's only a matter of time before Elisa and Dominic hear the Feds rummaging around in my house, so we all gather in the kitchen and try to play it cool.

Anthony looks pissed; he's pacing near the wide doorway. It's all he's done since he called Ed Sr. to help Junior.

Duke and Duchess get restless too, Duke occasionally growling and baring his teeth toward the hallway.

Gabriella, God bless her, distracts Julia, both seated at the kitchen table.

Elisa probably remembers last time the Feds searched our house and one of them accidentally tipped over her cassette collection, which would explain the expression of disgust she's rocking like a champ.

Dominic appears curious—like, his eyes are taking it all in, and I can see questions piling up. He's been through this before, but he was so young and Junior and I could explain it all away. Now, not so much. I expect my husband will sit down with him after this.

And I'm drumming my red-painted fingernails against the smooth surface of the kitchen island—while I really just wanna follow the Feds around and make sure they don't break anything.

It's late—really fucking late—and I can't help but wonder why they would come here at this hour. Dinnertime, sure; they've done that before. Midday when only I'm home—that's happened, too. But in the middle of the goddamn night? Christ no!

Leaning over the countertop slightly, I glare at the man outside the kitchen who's standing dangerously close to a vase Junior's parents gave us. It's a fairly empty space; it's where the foyer meets doorways to both the living room and the kitchen, where the staircase begins, and where the hall toward our bedroom, Junior's office, and a guestroom starts…yet this bastard chooses to almost walk into the only piece of furniture there—a side table with that vase on it.

"Watch it!" I snap at him. "Do you see any hiding spots there, huh? Do you? Or are ya gonna break up the floor? Maybe there's guns and drugs and money under the tiles!" I widen my eyes in mock-horror.

I saw that marble tile floor in a magazine, and my Junior imported it for me from Italy. I'll be _damned_ if I'm gonna sit here and let these idiots tramp all over it and walk into vases…and shit.

"I apologize, Mrs. Maisano." The Fed offers a forced smile, his politeness all bullshit, and continues into the living room where a few other agents are up to no good.

I pretend to spit at his retreating form, almost wishing he'd destroyed that vase so I could've shown him what I'm _really_ made of.

Soon, another agent approaches. "Mrs. Maisano, where do you turn off the sprinklers? We'd like to check the yard."

I give him a bored stare then inspect my nails. "I don't know," I lie. "My husband takes care'a that." I raise a brow at him. "If you hadn't taken him, he woulda been able to help. But you Feds don't think that far ahead, do you?"

Dominic snickers.

The agent looks annoyed. "I don't expect you to understand, but it's in your best interest to—"

"Don't talk to my mother like that," Anthony says, and his voice sounds _just_ like Junior's. Soft, eerie, full of warning and ice. The resemblance causes me to shudder a little. It's a fact that my husband is more lethal when he's quiet. If he's shouting and gesturing, it's all good. But when he lowers his voice, gets that sinister look in his eyes, and speaks softly, warningly…that's when you run. There might even be a smile on his lips, but you'll see it in his eyes—the coldness, the freaking monster barely kept at bay. And my son isn't done; he takes a step toward the agent and brushes some invisible lint off the man's shoulder. "You don't get to come in here and belittle her by telling her what she might or might not understand. You get what I'm sayin'?"

I swallow, for the first time seeing this side in Anthony. He's not facing me, but if his voice matches his father's, his expression might, too.

The Fed grits his teeth, wisely keeping his mouth shut, and then leaves the kitchen. Because as much as he could've taken things further, the agents are usually ordered to keep wives and kids out of it.

~oOo~

Some time later, the Feds are finally done.

A couple guys are soaked, having walked through the yard with the sprinklers on, and had I not been too annoyed about the state of my house, I would've laughed. But all I can think of now is how I gotta clean my entire house tomorrow—all for nothing. They haven't found anything.

My house isn't my only worry, though. As always, I'm worried sick about Junior.

He says he doesn't get sloppy—that he doesn't make mistakes and that there's nothing to worry about—but what wife would actually calm down and relax? What _good_ wife.

In the living room, I walk over to the liquor cabinet and take out a bottle of Amaretto, pouring myself a drink in one of Junior's scotch glasses—the crystal ones I gave him for his birthday a couple years ago. And with that drink in my hand, I sit down on one of the couches, too exhausted and weary for conversation.

"Whatta fuckin' night." Anthony plops down next to me with a grunt, and the other children follow, sitting down here and there. "You okay, Ma?"

"Uh-huh." I take a big sip of the amber liquid in my glass, savoring the _slight_, bitter burn combined with rich sweetness. But…am I really okay? And shouldn't I be the one to ask my son that? It's not his job to be the adult and make sure everyone's all right.

"Hey." He leans closer and drapes an arm around my shoulders. "Dad said it himself—he'll be home before breakfast. You got nothing to worry about." He kisses my temple. "He'd be pissed if he knew you got all sad."

Yeah…

I feel like things have shifted—my oldest son has taken on the role of protector. At least while Junior's not here. I'm not sure how I feel about that.

"I'm fine." I pull myself together. I know this—I've done this before. The smile feels a little tight at first, but then I get it. "Julia baby, you need to sleep." I stand up and smooth down my dress, thinking I can finish my drink once the kids are in bed. "Elisa, will you please help her—"

"Mom, I can go to bed myself." Julia yawns, grins tiredly, and pushes off the couch. "I'm not a baby anymore."

"Don't say that," I whisper. I suddenly feel emotional—all my children are growing up, and I don't like it. We've been able to count on Julia being our baby; she loves being a kid, so for her to say that… "And don't you ever say it near Daddy. You'll break his heart."

She pouts and comes over to squeeze my hand. "Fine. I'll pretend for you."

"Good." I hug her to me so tight, realizing she's grown taller this summer. Another six inches and we'll be the same height. "All right—" I give her a smooch on the forehead and then let go "—time for bed." I eye the kids one by one, Gabriella included. "All'a youse. And, Gabriella honey, you can sleep in Elisa's room."

_Consider this mommy a cockblocker_.

I won't get on my son's ass about grandchildren until there's a ring on Gabriella's finger. She deserves that.

There's some bitching from Anthony, but I think he can sense I'm not in the mood, so he drops it quickly. And for all I know, he'll sneak Gabriella into his room the minute Elisa's asleep.

_Whattaya gonna do abouddit?_

As soon as they've all disappeared upstairs, I head to the kitchen. I can't go to bed when the house looks like this—pillow cushions flipped over, cabinets opened, carpets askew, grass from the yard near the patio door, some mud too… I also can't sleep when I don't know for sure what my husband's going through, so I grab the phone first, thinking I can either call Riley, Alec, Felix, Junior's mother—since Senior's most likely busy being a lawyer… I can call my brother, too, if it comes to that. I'm still mad at him for cheating on Alice, but it is what it is.

Opening the phonebook on the counter where we charge the cordless, I dial Riley and Brianna's house first.

Unsurprisingly, Junior's sister answers. _"Brianna Bienati."_

"It's Bella," I sigh. "You sound as tired as I feel."

_"Oh, Bella! I was just about to call you. It's been crazy."_

I nod even though she can't see me. "So, they grabbed Riley, too?"

_"Yes, and Dad called me—said they'd also brought in Felix, Jasper, Junior, and Alec. But Dad and Joseph will get them out soon."_

"Joseph too, huh?" I sit down on a stool, reminding myself that Felix's oldest isn't a kid anymore. He's a grown man, and apparently he's closer to Felix's business than I thought. A few years ago, he was this little punk who ran with EJ—they were drivers and doing shit for kicks. But with Joseph becoming a lawyer, I'd hoped his future looked different—that he wasn't following in Felix's footsteps.

_"Yeah…"_ Brianna sighs heavily. _"I wonder what's happening. It—it feels like it's big. Doesn't it?"_

I hadn't thought about it, but maybe. It's nothing we can discuss over the phone, anyway.

"Juniuh told me not to worry," I say, swallowing my emotions. "But…"

_"I know,"_ she replies softly.

God—right now, I _hate_ not knowing what's going on.


	23. Vendetta 13

**Special thanks to Lisa, Lexi, Francesca, and Kitty :)**

**I can't thank you enough for the reviews, all the theories, and the reccs. Thank you so much. **

**By the way, next chapter might be a couple days late, because I'm off to London in a few days to meet Kitty, ma'twi-sis ;) But I still have a few days to work on the next chap, so I hope to get it done :) But now you know, just in case.**

* * *

**Grand Vendetta**

**Chapter 13**

**Translation:**

CW = Cooperating witness. It's an FBI term.

Babysitter = In this case, it's a bodyguard.

Witsec = the Federal Witness Protection Program.

_Tutta mia adesso_ = All mine now

_Vieni dentro di me_ = Come in me

_Che cazzo di problema hai? _What the fuck is wrong wit'chu?

**Anthony's POV**

"I should probably sneak back into Elisa's room." Gabriella yawns.

I shake my head no and kiss her neck, my morning wood perfectly lined up with her ass. "Not yet." Slipping a hand under her t-shirt, I palm one of her tits and groan at the heaviness. "Lemme feel you." My voice is all thick with sleep. Last night, or rather this morning, we dropped quickly, too tired for anything else. But now… "Can I touch you?"

She sucks in a breath and nods.

_Fucking finally._

If Gabriella had cockblocked me, it woulda been one thing. But to know she's ready for more and then be cockblocked by others…that's fucking worse. More tempting.

Flipping her over, I end up kneeling between her parted legs, and I push away the covers to get a good look at my girl. And fuck me if she ain't stunning.

"Clothes off," I say gruffly, tugging on the boxer shorts she's borrowed to sleep in. On my nightstand, my clock radio goes off, but before it can piss me off, I listen to the song that comes on just then, and… I chuckle. Fucking perfect. Gabriella smirks, like she's reading my mind. "What?" I widen my arms and grin. "We should listen to H-Town. They know what's up."

"Knockin' Da Boots" is a sexy song with this seductive beat, and I wouldn't mind getting down to it with Gabriella.

I tense my jaw, watching as my girl sits up and pulls the shirt over her head, exposing her front fully to me. And when she gets started on the shorts, I gotta bite down on my knuckles, afraid I'mma lose it before I even…what? Get inside her? Touch her? I'm not sure just how far she's willing to go right now, but…whatever it is, it's going to be a test of my restraint.

The second she's completely fucking naked before me, she drops back against the mattress, causing her tits to jiggle, and I'm fucking speechless. 'Cause this is the first time I've seen her this way.

"You're s-staring," she whispers nervously.

She's about to cover herself up, but I stop her with a fierce look. _Don't you fucking dare, baby_.

"Look what'chu do to me." I point to my hard dick, tenting in my pajama bottoms, and shake my head. "You got nothin' to be nervous about." Without shame, I tug down my pants and throw them somewhere on the floor, and then I return to staring. But this time, my hands join. "Christ, you're gorgeous…" I stroke her thick thighs; they're so goddamn smooth and soft. Her whole body is. "I'm a lucky bastard." I chuckle under my breath, a little surprised that I've landed this one. More possessiveness surges through me, like a steady current that ain't going away. "_Tutta mia adesso_." I lower myself, covering her body with mine, and kiss the valley between her tits.

"Anthony," she whimpers and weaves her fingers in my hair.

I kiss and nuzzle, meeting her neck. "I'm gonna get to know all of this…" I nip at her earlobe while my right hand goes for her breasts. And I got big fucking hands, yet they still don't cover all of her. "…Every dip and curve…" I groan as my cock nestles against her pussy, all warm and damp with soft-looking curls.

"We can," she gasps and arches into me when I pluck at her nipple, "we can, um…make love—if-if you want." She gulps.

I spit out a low curse and drop some of my weight on her. Propped up on my left elbow, I peer down at her face, but I don't know what the fuck I thought I'd see there. There's lust, but there's also a whole lotta nerves, so I can't be sure if she's really ready.

"I'm sure, _ciccioleone_." Her dark eyes soften and she gently pushes some hair away from my forehead. "You know I'm yours."

I take a deep breath and nod, suddenly feeling nervous myself. Maybe 'cause this is different than the nameless chicks before her. Because this time I care about making it good for not only myself, but her too. I gotta remind myself it's not just about getting off. There's pressure—to perform well. And fuck, I'm seventeen…and unexpectedly feeling less experienced than I am.

"I'll go slow," I promise in some husky voice. Nuzzling her neck again, where her natural scent combined with that toffee lotion is the strongest, I slide my free hand down her body, needing to make her feel good before I even think about sticking my cock in her. I'm not fucking minute-man, but it's not like I can go on forever. "Hold on to me." I notice the way she's fisting the sheets and trying to get comfortable.

When I gently cup her pussy, she gasps and her hands fly to my shoulders.

"Oh, _cazzo_—" She gasps and instinctively bucks her hips into my touch.

"You like that, baby?" I slowly slip my middle finger between her slippery lips and slide the tip down to her tight hole. At the same time, the pad of my thumb presses down where her clit is, and I nearly moan at how fucking badly I want her right now.

"Yeah—_yesss_," she hisses, squeezing her eyes shut. Fuck, I love how she clings to me, too. Like I'm holding her together. Adding pressure on her clit, I cautiously push my middle finger inside her. But though she's tight as fuck, I can tell she's already ready for more. "So good." She lets out a small, breathy moan that makes my dick painfully hard, the skin around it so tight.

With two fingers inside her and my thumb playing with her clit, I stop staring at her face for a while to suck on her tits. Simultaneously, I look down at where my fingers disappear into her, and I see how they glisten whenever I pull out.

_That'll be my dick soon_.

Christ.

She lifts her hips, moving with me, and I speed up.

"More," she breathes out, "oh, yes!"

I've never really given a fuck about a broad's pleasure before, but now that I do, I find it a little disappointing when Gabriella starts to tremble beneath me so quickly, the first sign of her orgasm. 'Cause it feels like I coulda gone on forever, just watching her so out of it—so sexy, beautiful, and so dependent on me. But then I remind myself that this is only the first time; and it also means it's almost my turn. _Cazzo_, how many times have I jerked off to the thoughts of fucking her?

"That's it, baby," I whisper, feeling my breathing pick up. Covering her mouth with mine, I swallow her moans and finger-fuck her faster, harder, now desperate to see her fall apart. "Come for me—come around my fingers. Squeeze them." My dick leaks of pre-cum on her thigh. "So fucking hot."

Throughout her orgasm, she whimpers and sighs and bites down on my shoulder, her fingernails digging into my back. It's a weird pain that only fuels me—I get hornier and fucking hornier.

She's completely rigid, only small tremors running through her. Shakes and quivers.

It's not until she collapses, melting into the mattress, that I slowly withdraw my fingers from her pussy. Unable to resist, I suck them into my mouth, and my eyes nearly roll back inside my head. Jesus, I gotta taste her from the motherfucking source someday—soon. I've never done that before, but how difficult can it be?

My need too great, I begin to kiss her like I'm ravaging her, barely letting her catch her breath, and I guide my cock to her soaked pussy.

"I need to fuck you." I shudder, pressing the head of me against her tight opening. "Fuck, tell me—tell me I can." _Right now before I fucking lose it._

"Yeah," she pants, "but wait, Anthony—condom…"

"_No_," I say almost pleadingly and cup her flushed cheek. "I've never gone without one before, but I fucking _need_ to feel all of you." God, she's so wet and hot and tight; I gotta have more, push deeper into— "Please, _micina_." I kiss her softly on the lips, exchanging breaths with her. "Just this once. One time."

I'm aware of the risks, but Jesus fucking Christ, just…_one time_.

"Anthony…" She squirms, and indecision is written all over her.

"One time," I repeat, honestly not sure why I'm so desperate for it. Ah, fuck it. I know why. I just…I need to—to get her, physically. Claim her. Sink into her so deeply and mark her as mine. "You got me begging, Gabriella." I continue to kiss her; it seems to loosen her up, those soft sighs proof of that.

She groans and shoots me a weak glare. "Fine, but—"

"No buts, baby." I give her a hard smooch. "Just trust me."

Trying to be careful, I push into her in slowly, inch by inch, my eyes never leaving hers.

"You okay?" I ask in a strained voice. She nods jerkily, all tense and not breathing. "Take a breath for me."

She does, and when she exhales, I swiftly bury the rest of my cock in her pussy.

"_Fuck_," she gasps.

"I'm sorry." I drop my forehead to her neck, my breathing coming in choppy pants. She feels too fucking good—I'm not gonna last long. "I'm sorry, _micina_. Are you okay? Does it hurt?"

"I'm fine." I hear the grimace in her voice. "Just burns a little—like, soreness. I swear. You—you can move."

I do, but I do it even slower than before, and I make sure to coax her into a more relaxed state. By kissing her and touching her and whispering stuff to her, she soon moves with me, albeit shyly and hesitantly. One lift of her hips causes me to drive deeper into her, and I moan loudly against her cheek.

"So fucking amazing," I mumble, outta breath. Finding her lips, I kiss her deeply, mingling my tongue with hers. At the same time, my hard dick slides in and out of her, with more resistance going in than out. And her hot slickness feels indescribable coating my cock.

The second I almost blurt out that I love her, I bite down on my lip, groan, and tighten every grip I have on her.

I feel all raw inside, exposed and vulnerable, which I don't fucking like. Even if it's Gabriella I'm stripped bare to, I don't want it. I need to be in control—be in charge. So, I push harder. I regain control and own her body with my movements. It's up there, high on fucking pleasure, everything unleashed, that I top her best. By not holding back, I become more aware, though I don't understand how.

_Close, close, close._

"Your turn, Anthony," she whispers, kissing my face. I close my eyes and groan at the sensations—her hands and mouth on me do it. And, fuck, her pussy. "Come." She exhales shakily. "_Vieni dentro di me_."

"_Christ_," I hiss and thrust harder. Everything coils up inside me, and I hitch her legs over my hips to reach the deepest spots. Suddenly it feels like I'm underwater or some shit—it's ringing and buzzing in my ears, and I start coming so goddamn hard.

_In-fucking-tense_.

I groan and rock, releasing into her, and slip a hand under her to grab on to her ass.

Anything to stay where I am.

~oOo~

Eventually, time gets away from us, and by the time we resurface from my room, I can hear Elisa, Dee, and Julia in the rec room. But I'm kinda worried about Mom, so I grab Gabriella's hand and walk downstairs instead.

I'm not surprised to be greeted by a spotless house, no trace of the Feds being here last night.

"No, stay here with me." I chuckle and growl playfully against Gabriella's neck, keeping her in front of me. She giggles and squirms, but I have her trapped, my arms encircling her upper body so she can't move her own arms. "Or maybe I should tie you to my bed and keep you there." Wrapping my fingers around one of her wrists, I bring the inside of it to my lips and kiss the clasp of the bracelet I gave her last night. "I think that sounds good, don't you?"

She laughs and is about to answer, but then we reach the kitchen and Gabriella's playfulness is gone. So is mine, but my girl reacts faster.

"Go." She pushes me in Mom's direction, looking concerned. "I'll go back upstairs. And call me if you need me to help out with anything."

I nod, thinking my girl is a sweetheart, and steal a quick kiss and smack her ass before I turn to Mom.

"You been up all night?" I join her by the kitchen island, eyeing the glass of wine in front of her. She's still in that dress, too—the one from yesterday.

She shrugs and peers down in her glass. "Couldn't stand the house looking like a war zone."

While I know that's partly true, she would've dealt with the house today if Dad hadn't been taken last night.

"Little early for wine, don't you think?" I gently remove it from her grasp and drape an arm around her shoulders. My mom thinks she's gotta be so tough all the time.

"Not if I haven't gone to bed yet," she bitches. "Stop acting like you're my guardian or some shit."

"Easy." I give her a squeeze. "I'm just trying to look out for you until Pop comes home."

"Well," she huffs, "you should go shower, 'cause you smell like sex."

I cringe and back away.

"Yeah…" She gives me the stink-eye, an expression my sisters have perfected over the years. "Go shower, get dressed, and—" she shrugs, and there's a smirk tugging at her lips "—then, who knows, maybe you can start looking for a ring."

I point to my chest. "Seventeen."

She points to her chest, too. "Very aware. I pushed you outta my—"

"Oh!" I shout. "I didn't come down here for this." I shake my head and start walking out. "Christ."

"Wait!" Mom runs after me, and then I have her crashing into my body from behind, her arms packing some mean strength despite how small she is. "I'm sorry, baby!" She hugs my midsection, and I barely manage to twist around in her grip. "I didn't mean to be a bitch."

"I know." I roll my eyes and kiss the top of her head. "It's cool, Ma. I know you get like this when Dad's…" _not here and you don't know when he's coming back_. "Look, do you want me and Gabriella to take the others out for breakfast? You can rest, wait for Dad…or you could come with us." We could probably drive over to _Stella_ and lock up and heat up some moan-worthy leftovers. Sometimes, Enzo makes sandwiches with the stuff left from the night before, and it's always so fucking good. Maybe not as good as my mom's, but her cooking is pretty hard to top.

"No, it's okay." Mom sniffles. "We'll eat, but…" She glances at the clock on the stove, "…Daddy's not home yet. He said he'd be back before breakfast." She looks up at me, and I brush my thumbs under her eyes to wipe away some tears. "Why isn't he back?" But as soon as the words have left her mouth, we hear a car pull up outside.

Mom runs.

Then when the door opens, all I hear is a squeal. And Dad's "oomph" as Mom most likely jumps into his arms.

Walking out in the foyer, joined by our dogs, I see Dad comforting Mom in the open doorway.

He looks worn in his rumpled suit, but his eyes are alert. Though, upon a closer inspection, I see that he's not fully awake without…assistance, if you will. My guess is coke, and I wouldn't be surprised if Zio Alec's supplied him. Maybe Dad's not even sticking around—maybe he's gotta work or…something.

"Come on, hummingbird," he murmurs in her hair. "I can see you haven't slept. Let's go to bed."

I raise a brow in question when his eyes meet mine, and he mouths, "Wait for me."

I nod and walk back to the kitchen.

My parents disappear down the hall and into their bedroom.

Hungry as fuck, I start pulling out a bunch of food, figuring my siblings will be hungry, too, when they eventually come down. But right now, it's just me, Mom's zucchini bread, some shaved prosciutto, mozzarella, and tomato slices. _Best. Fucking. Breakfast_. Had Mom been in charge, it would've been pancakes, muffins, scrambled eggs, bacon, French toast…the whole shebang, but if I gotta make my own food, there's no way I'm slaving away like that.

Why cook when the freezer and the fridge are full of Tupperware, anyway? There's always _something_.

Half an hour later, Dad reappears, and I make a face when I see him zipping up his pants and tucking in his shirt. _Gross_. It's not even a new suit, so it doesn't take a genius to figure out what they've done.

He just smirks and says, "What? She missed me. Or a part of me."

I know better than to say that's disgusting—like I wanna hear about my mother on her knees? Or whatever they did. I shudder.

"I thought you were going to bed?" I didn't really, but I need a fucking change of topic.

He shrugs and opens the fridge, pulling out the pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice. "She would've fussed over me—refused to sleep." After grabbing a glass, he sits down at the island and reaches for the prosciutto with fingers that've been God knows where. "I told her I was taking a shower and promised I'd join her in a minute. So, I gave her a Xanax and she crashed." He chuckles. "I told her you'd take care of your siblings, by the way."

"Sure. And you're going out?" I ask.

He nods. "Gotta meet up with Felix, Nonno, and Alec."

"At Tw—"

He cuts me off with a look and then gives the kitchen a pointed glance.

And I get it. Dad's gonna have the house swept for bugs that the Feds might've left behind.

"I'll be back before dinner." He pauses to chug his juice. "Mom wants to get to know Gabriella some more, and I'd like to see her now, too—now that she's your girl." He wipes his mouth on a napkin and stands up. "I trust that you'll ask her to stay for dinner tonight?"

"Got it." I do, somewhat. Gabriella's been a part of our life since I was two shits high; my parents know her. But maybe it's different just because she's my little woman now? I don't know. "But, um…is everything okay?"

He smiles, smacks my cheek, and kisses my forehead loudly, like I'm some baby. "Why wouldn't it be, _tesoro_?"

Right. Why wouldn't it be…

"I'm gonna take a shower—" he tilts his head, studying me, then huffs a laugh "—which you should, too. And then I'mma head out." He starts to walk outta the kitchen. "You've got Milo and Sal here today, but I want you to stay at home and take care'a your siblings."

"What was with that look?" I call to his retreating form.

He laughs, somewhere down the hall. "It says 'I got pussy' on your forehead, baby boy!"

Stupidly, I palm my forehead, then scowl at nothing.

**Junior's POV**

Felix, my dad, Alec, and I sit by the bar at Twilight while we wait for Felix's guy to finish in the office. The Feds haven't searched this place, but we're not taking any chances. It's too easy to hide a bug, and it takes no time.

Once that's done, we all take our drinks and disappear for privacy, and though we're all exhausted, having been awake for about twenty-four hours now, we get down to business right away.

Dad goes first since he's got the most info, being our lawyer and all, and Alec divides a few lines of blow.

"I'm afraid Jasper's going away for a while." Dad sighs and unbuttons his suit, then leans back in his seat and pulls out a cigar. "They got him on racketeering, drug possession, and money laundering." We all curse, but Dad goes on, looking at me now. "They had a plant at Dawn."

"I thought it was gonna be EJ who sang," Alec says and slides the tray with coke my way. "I have two boys looking for him—Riley's sending out some, too."

I grab the rolled-up C-note and snort a line, thinking EJ can still be involved. In fact, I'm pretty sure. Jasper sweeps his office as often as the rest of us do, and there's no way he'd discuss business with an outsider nearby. Drug possession and laundering…that's most likely taken place at Dawn, hence arresting him there. And whoever they planted at Dawn to get evidence…he or she coulda seen something. But _heard_ something? Forget about it.

And racketeering…I know Jasper's into a lotta protection; he has his boys roughing up store owners, vandalizing and shit, and then he sends somebody else on his crew to offer protection. For the right price, of course. But none of this takes place at Dawn, and like the rest of us, he doesn't conduct business outside'a his office.

"There's more than a fucking plant," I finally say, putting in my two cents. I swallow a few times and wipe my nose. Next, I share my thoughts on the racketeering charges, and I'm not surprised to see Pop nodding pensively; Felix and Alec agree, too.

"First, let's discuss Jasper." Felix pauses to do two lines that wake him up in seconds. "As much as I'd like to clip him for hurting my baby sister, he's still a man I trust—business-wise." I nod, thinking the same. Jasper's old school. Maybe he's a bit more careless than the rest of us, but he takes the code of silence as seriously as it's supposed to. I trust him, too. He's not CW-material, nor is he a rat. "Ed, you'll try to make him a deal—" Felix waves a hand "—whatever it is you do. But you know for sure he's gonna do time?"

Dad nods and takes a puff from his cigar. "He's looking at years." With those charges, we're not surprised. Felix just asked to make sure, 'cause we ain't the lawyers. Dad is. "Unless we can buy a juror, or maybe make a witness go away…there's little we can do."

"And he won't do anything stupid like tryin'a cut a deal on his own." Felix eyes us all, as if waiting for us to disagree, but we won't. "All right, nothing more we can do about that now, then." He raises his glass, and we drink to Jasper. "Next topic…" He twirls a finger. "The questioning."

My knee bouncing slightly, I go on and tell'im about the bullshit the Feds tried to sell me—that one of my soldiers were singing like a canary about me. But had the Feds known their shit, they wouldn't have gone that route with me. 'Cause I only have two guys working for me, not counting my son who works for both me and Felix, and that'd be Enzo and Nico. Enzo…that's fucking ridiculous. Firstly, the Feds wouldn't make him a deal for ratting, 'cause he's guilty of too much. Well, unless it's a life sentence instead of lethal injection. But no matta'—Enzo's reliable; besides, the crap the Feds spewed out about my activities and whereabouts on specific dates was all terribly made up—pure goddamn fiction. And Nico? Come on. He's in Kansas City. How on earth would he even know _anything_ about what I do? He reports to _me_, kicks up to _me_, not the other way around.

Alec is next, and he chuckles his way through the night he spent in a room with two Feds.

My brother is my opposite when the Feds bring us in. He laughs and spins tales, talking shit, which in the end pisses the Feds off and they let him go. Meanwhile, I sit there and smoke cigarettes and roll my thumbs—coolly plead the Fifth and any other amendment I can pull outta my ass, until they're bored with me. One time, I used the Fourteenth amendment; they got mad as fuck, and I'd been amused when they started yelling about how "fair" and "civil" they were with me.

"And all that outta the way…" Dad trails off when we're done discussing the past twenty-four hours.

Felix nods. "EJ." He stabs the desk he's sitting behind with a finger. "I'm done with him. I want him found, and…" We know the rest of that sentence.

"If he's working with the authorities—" Pop clears his throat "—there's a big chance he's either got a babysitter or…he's in Witsec already. But my guess?" He points to his chest. "The Feds got him in a safehouse somewhere. They're not done with him. And if he's somehow involved with Jasper's arrest, he might testify, too. _However_, EJ could also be out, hiding on his own somewhere." He shrugs. "Unless the Feds have something on him, it's not like they can detain him. For all we know, he sent an anonymous tip to the authorities that led to evidence."

Alec speaks up next. "Say EJ's involved—what's his beef with Jasper?"

"My nephew isn't thinking clearly." Felix taps his temple. "I believe it's safe to assume my little brother shared a lot more with EJ than he should've. And we've all found out just how loyal Emmett was to our family. In other words, if EJ's gonna treat this like his personal vendetta, then he's probably gonna try to take down as many as possible."

I can't help but chuckle. "All this trouble—from a little kid!" I slap my thigh.

Still, kid or no kid, his days are numbered. He's unpredictable, a loose cannon, and all it'd take is a stray bullet…

"Well, we're gonna hafta deal with it." Felix's words are final.

~oOo~

I get home a few hours later, and with the coke still doing its job, I'm too alert to rest, but I'm mellow enough to grab a beer and sit down in the yard for a while. I can hear all the kids out there, and maybe they can tire me out; that way, I'll be ready to go to bed right after dinner. And I swear to Christ, I ain't getting up for at least twelve hours.

Before I step out on the patio, I sneak into our bedroom quickly to change outta my suit. Isabella, that adorable thing, is asleep, curled into a little ball around my pillow. I brush some hair away from her face, loving that peaceful expression. And even in her sleep, she hums and gravitates toward my touch. I love it. Just like I loved the glorious fucking blowjob she gave me when I got home this morning.

_Madonn'. _The wife's got amazing cocksucking lips.

But I shake that thought for now. I go with a pair of gray sweats and a black beater, and then I pad out barefoot with my beer and tuck my gold cross on my chain underneath the fabric, 'cause it'll burn in the sun otherwise. And burn my skin afterward.

Anthony and Gabriella are in the pool with Julia and Dominic, and looking to my left, to the loungers, I see Elisa in one of them, reading some magazine.

"DADDY!" Julia's the first one to spot me, and she jumps outta the pool and sprints toward me like a little lunatic. "You're finally HOME!"

"What's shakin', bacon?" I chuckle and hug her pool-soaked, tiny self to me. "Hmmm, my princess." I kiss her wet hair, smelling the chlorine.

"That's my line!" She giggles madly and squints up at me. "So, you gonna tell me now what the police did here, huh?"

"It was a mistake." I tug on a piece of her hair. "They thought I was a bad guy—that'd I'd done something wrong."

"Oh." She huffs. "I hope they apologized."

"I made them apologize." I wink down at her and she grins. "Get that butt back in the pool—I wanna see how many laps you can do."

"Okay!" She runs off again, all excited, and I jerk my chin in hello to Anthony, Dominic, and Gabriella, to which I get two chin-jerks and one tentative wave in return. Guess who did what.

Sitting down with my cold beer on the lounger next to Elisa's, I peer out over the pool, thinking it's a good thing Anthony's got that Sindone girl. She'll be good for him.

"I don't get a hello from you, _angioletto_?" I sit sideways so I'm facing her, unlike her; she's lying down, sunglasses on, and she's put away the magazine. "Ah, lemme guess." I smirk and pop open my beer. "Mom told you I'm grounding you, didn't she?"

Elisa responds, all snark, but she doesn't move. "As a matter of fact, she did. Well, she said you're both grounding me—told me as soon as I woke up and came downstairs."

That could explain Elisa not being downstairs when I got home this morning.

I shrug even though she can't see me, and I take a sip from my beer before setting it on the table between our loungers. I hope she won't blow this up, 'cause I wanna ask her how it was at Circus Circus, which reminds me: I gotta talk to Milo, too. He was there with her and Francis, after all.

"Don't be so fucking disrespectful and we _won't_ ground you."

"Just because I called youse gross?" She scoffs. "Puh-_lease_. Who wans'ta see their parents screwing? _Gag_."

"Ay!" I shoot up from my seat and tower over her; the first thing I do is rip off her shades and throw them on the ground. And now, yeah, _now_ Elisa looks scared. About _fucking_ time. "_Che cazzo di problema hai?_" I growl and get a grip on her arm. Truth be told, her attitude is breaking my heart. "Since when do you speak like that to us, huh? You want me to shake the fuckin' brat outta you? Trust me—" I let go of her and sit down again "—it'd be _no_ goddamn problem."

"_God_, Dad! You're—you're so _strict_! _Too_ strict!" She sits up straighter, looking like she's torn between fear and fury. "I mean, come on! You barely even let me wear makeup!"

_Speaking of?_

But I roll with it, and I nod and steal one of Anthony's smokes from the side table. "That's 'cause you don't need it." I light it up and take a drag, trying to calm down. "And I don't want you lookin' like that one friend'a yours—Amanda? She looks like a baby whore!"

"Oh, my God." Her lip quivers, and here come the dramatics. "That's _such_ a mean thing to say!"

I ignore that. "And for the record, I didn't give a shit about you running up to your room last night." I seethe, "_It was what you said to your motha'_." Next, I start ticking off things on my fingers. "She gave birth to you, cooks for you every day, makes sure you get the best clothes, protects you when you're up to no good—yeah, you think I didn't know about that?" I laugh, though nothing is funny.

I admit it; I caught on late when it came to Elisa. I saw her as this angel who could do no wrong. _I_ was wrong there. But I'm on to her now.

"Then you call her _gross_—in her own house? Un-fucking-acceptable, Elisa." I point to her. "I was gonna ground you for a day or two and give you a couple shifts at _Stella_, but the attitude you're giving me now?" I shake my head, disappointed. "Make that a week. _And_ you're gonna apologize to Mom."

When Elisa storms off, sobbing and wailing about how much I suck and don't understand how hard her life is, I just let her go, too pissed to even deal with her at this point.

_How hard her life is? _

"Jesus Christ," I mutter and lean back, getting comfortable. "The brat doesn't know how good she has it."

"You talkin' to yourself again, Dad?!" Dominic shouts, laughing, from the pool.

I chuckle tiredly and wave him off. Yeah, _tiredly_. Guess all it takes to get coke outta your system is one pissy daughter.

"Dad!" And that's Julia; she's panting, clinging to the edge of the deep end of the pool. "Did you count the laps?! Was I good?!"

"Too good, princess!" I holler back. "I lost count—there was too many!" I hold out my arms.

She gets all giddy and proud, fist-pumping the air.

And I wonder how the hell I'mma be able to stay awake much longer.


	24. Vendetta 14

**Special thanks to Lisa, Lexi, and Francesca :) Sorry for the delay; I was in London, had a great time, though it killed my feet just a little bit. Anyway, we're back on track now; once-a-week posting :)**

* * *

**Grand Vendetta**

**Chapter 14**

**Translation:**

_Cristo santo, fai solo pace con lei!_ = Christ, just make peace with her!

_E' quel che è_ = It is what it is.

_Quanto pensa che costi il gelato?_ = How expensive does he think ice cream is?

**Junior's POV**

_**October 26**__**th**_

Taking a sip of my beer, I flip the steaks on the grill, side-eyeing Anthony in amusement. Enzo, standing on the other side of me, is just as amused.

I nudge my son with my elbow. "I've already told you what the secret is."

Jewelry. If you piss off your woman, you drag your ass to the jeweler. If it's warranted, that is. But before there's a ring on Gabriella's finger, Anthony's gotta watch himself.

"I don't see why I gotta do that," Anthony grumbles and lights up a smoke. "With all due respect," he adds for Enzo's sake.

"My daughter is stubborn," Enzo says, placing a hand over his heart. "She gets it from her mother. You might as well learn that from the get."

"Don't I fuckin' know it." Anthony scrubs a hand over his face, and I chuckle, seeing his bruised knuckles. "But I ain't gonna apologize for this."

And "this" is about the beating Anthony gave a boy in Gabriella's class. Jacob…something…who apparently took Gabriella on a few dates last year. And my son wanted to make shit clear—that Jacob has no business even looking at Gabriella now.

Enzo and I get it, but today's women are all about being independent and shit like that.

Gabriella came over yesterday, was all waving fists and cursing in Italian, because Jacob now treats her as if there's a restraining order on him. He gives her a wide berth, doesn't look at her, and is sporting two black eyes.

And that makes it difficult since Gabriella wants good grades and she and Jacob are partners in their chem class, or whatever it was.

To me and Enzo, this is like a break. We can come home after shit that gives us headaches and listen to teenagers and their problems. We get a good laugh and so on.

"Oh, maybe Mom can talk sense into her." Anthony jerks his chin at the patio where Isabella's setting the table with Carm—Enzo's wife—and I know my hummingbird. It's only a matter of time before she'll take Gabriella aside to give her the ins and outs of our son.

In the meantime, I suppose Anthony and Gabriella will shoot each other glares with the backyard as a distance between them. We're here by the grill, and Gabriella's with Elisa by the loungers.

I think my son should count his fucking blessings, because of the way he rants and bitches about his girl… I'm just saying that if Elisa had a boyfriend and he was being a cunt about her and I was standing close enough to hear? Forget about it.

But I know Enzo's priorities. He approves of Anthony's intentions. No matter what, my boy will keep Gabriella protected, provided for, and he will be loyal to her.

Even though marriage isn't on the table just yet, Anthony's already stepped forward to show he can take care of Gabriella, and I dig that. So does Enzo.

"_Cristo santo, fai solo pace con lei!_" I give Anthony a look after the umpteenth glare he sends across the yard to his girl. "You know, Mom was like that, too." Actually, Isabella was even more of a hothead, like a pistol needing a silencer. "Back when I first dated her, I mean. You gotta let them get their shit out before you show them who's boss." I nod. "Women like Isabella and Gabriella need a firm hand, 'cause they're strong, but you can't silence them right away. You'll get the cold shoulder forever."

"Carm's like that, too." Enzo nods. "You gotta learn to pick your battles. But now you gotta stick with this—you've jumped into this, so stand your ground. Otherwise, Gabby will walk all over you."

Sound advice.

"I thought Mom was an angel when you dated her, Pop." Anthony smirks at me.

"She was." I furrow my brows. "But you know your own mother, don't you? Fuckin' temper on that one." Which is one of the things I love most about my wife. But Enzo's right: strong women like that need a firm hand. "But I tamed her." I point to my chest. "I give her wiggle room because she needs it, but at the end of the day, she knows her place." I check the steaks and put the sausages on the grill. "I also spoil her."

For her birthday last month, I gave Isabella what I always give her—jewelry and a vacation. We just got home from ten days in Italy a week and a half ago.

"And as long as I keep Mom happy, she has no business complaining where I fall short. Work hours, for instance." I give Anthony a pointed look, and he nods with a dip of his chin. "Like Enzo said, stand your ground this time, 'cause you don't wanna make her think you cave, but then…? Christ, don't fight about every little thing. Let her get away with some shit. Don't smother the poor girl. And don't ruin tomorrow with bitching," I add in warning. "Dominic and Julia's been looking forward to this for weeks."

The north tower of the Dunes, also known as the Diamond, will be imploded tomorrow, and it's gonna be a huge fucking spectacle. My parents are boycotting it because it means another old landmark in Vegas will give room to some new monstrosity, and while I'd like to pretend it's just another day, my two youngest want us to go, and the wife suggested a night for the family. So, it'll be dinner at _Stella_ and then we'll walk over to the Dunes for the implosion.

My sister is also joining with her family, as well as the Sindones.

If nothing else, an ironclad alibi is fixed for tomorrow.

We're all looking for EJ at this point, but since we received confirmation that he was involved in Jasper's arrest—Dad managed to bribe a Fed for information—we have our soldiers doing all the dirty work. Alec, Riley, me, Felix, and my father make sure to move around in public, and there's always someone to vouch for our whereabouts. Had EJ worked alone, we wouldn't've gone to such lengths, but the Feds are keeping an eye on us all.

We know EJ is out there somewhere, 'cause the Feds are looking for him, too, and Elisa has actually spotted him. And surprise, surprise…she and Francis saw him at Circus Circus—a casino previously run by the Chicago Outfit. We think the Outfit is still involved, but the Gaming Commission is hounding them ruthlessly. Just this month, there's been four arrests on Chicago associates.

Yeah, no, my baby girl ain't allowed there anymore. Neither is Francis—even when Milo's with 'em. The first time, they didn't see anything, 'cause they were only at that fuckin' amusement park at Circus, but then…like mother, like daughter…Elisa likes to shop. So, the second time they went, Francis had taken her to the shops around the hotel, and they'd spotted EJ.

Without EJ's testimony, the racketeering charges won't stick on Jasper, and like I said, that little shit has gone underground.

My guess is that EJ is smart enough to know that Feds can be bought, and therefore, he doesn't trust them to keep him safe. Either he's backing out completely, or he'll resurface when Jasper's trial begins. And that could also explain why it hasn't started yet; those fucking Feds are stalling, trying to find more evidence and questioning people. Obviously I get it can take a long time to build a case, but for fuck's sake, the case is already there. Evidence and all—when we're talking drug possession and laundering, anyway.

I want to get all this over with, 'cause right now everything is too fucking unsettled and up in the air. My wife, despite her resentment toward her brother's infidelity, loves Jasper, and she was an inconsolable mess the day I told her about Jasper's arrest. And to add to that, we've found out Alice is three months pregnant, Rose has fled Nevada with her youngest daughter and moved back to Florida, Nico and Lucia are thinking about moving back to support their dad, and Maria caught Alec with his goomah a few weeks ago, so it's all kinds of fucking crazy around here.

Everyone who knows me is waiting for me to explode since I just _love_ drama. And the only one who seems to give a shit is my wife. Isabella is aware of the stiffness in my shoulders, the headaches I sometimes get, and my short fuse. So, she's extra attentive. If Elisa starts with her teenage drama queen bullshit, Isabella silences it immediately. If Julia breaks a piece of furniture, Isabella is there to curse her out and ground her. If Anthony's being a cunt about insignificant shit, Isabella drags him up to his room by his fucking ear.

She's indecently sexy when she gets going, when she ensures that the house is quiet for me, when she spoils me with attention.

Meanwhile, I know she's running ragged, too. She's tired as hell after running interference around the house, being there for Alice, listening to Maria's rants over the phone, taking care of the household, creating new recipes for _Stella_, and…I make a mental note to get my shit together soon. Maybe take her on another vacation when all this has settled—she's talked about wanting to visit Greece, one place we've never been.

**Hummingbird's POV**

"No, you stay put. Gabriella can help me." Once dinner is over, Gabriella and I start clearing the table. Carm wants to help, but I wink at her so she understands. And she does. She knows I need alone time with her daughter. She's actually the one who's asked me to talk to Gabriella, which I've been doing for a while now. "Julia, quit bouncing." I swear, the girl's on crack or something.

"Can I go swim?" She pleads with her eyes.

I shake my head no and grab Junior's plate. "Wait half an hour. Go watch a movie." Grabbing Elisa's plate, I tell her, "You've got that Spanish test soon. Go study. And, Dominic, you got that presentation—I'll come up later to listen."

With our arms full, Gabriella and I head to the kitchen, and while she goes out for the second round, I grab the wooden box Junior's father brought over earlier. I put on the coffeemaker next and pull out the tiramisu cheesecake from the fridge.

"Just a little bit left." Gabriella grins as we pass each other in the living room.

"Thanks, hon." I nod and step out, walking to Junior's end of the table. Dipping down, I brush a kiss on his cheek and set the box in front of him. He smiles curiously and moves to grab me, but I giggle and clear the rest of the table—napkins, a few glasses, the barbecue sauce, and an empty wine bottle.

When I come out a third time, it's with Junior's scotch and two glasses for him and Enzo.

"Coffee will be ready soon, too," I add as Junior wraps an arm around my ass. "What's up, _ciccino_?"

"What's up?" he chuckles. Pulling me closer, he drops a kiss on my stomach. "How about you explain these?" He holds up the cigar in his other hand. Already lit. Enzo's got one, too.

I smirk and weave my fingers through Junior's hair. "A guy owed me a favor." I mimic the words I've heard too many times over the years.

"Oh-ho!" my husband laughs. "Check out this one, Enzo." He presses his face to my stomach again, looking both tired and happy. "You my little wiseguy, _bell'uccellino_?" I chuckle and drag my nails across his neck, making him shudder and squeeze the back of my thigh. "Mmmm, let's go with the truth instead."

"Your father's my dealer. I figured you'd like your own since Ed always says you take his." I grin and kiss the top of his head. "Now, lemme go. I gotta prepare the dessert."

He nods and tilts up his head, puckering his lips.

I kiss him.

"_Grazie_." He gives me another squeeze. "Seriously, hummingbird—thank you."

"Of course." I smile and head back inside again, finding Gabriella in the kitchen where she's taking out plates for the cheesecake. "Finally—" I plop down on a stool at the kitchen island and release a breath "—five minutes of peace and quiet." I pat the stool next to me. "Have a seat, honey." I reach for the bottle of wine she must've taken out; it's already been opened, and there's also four new glasses for us adults. "Do you want a glass?"

I get it, she's only sixteen, but…eh. Wine is good for your heart.

"Um. Sure?" She blushes. "Thank you."

Such a sweetheart.

I pour her a glass and slide it over to her. "You still makin' Anthony suffer?"

"Yes. You said until tomorrow, right?"

"That's right." I nod. "He needs to learn he can't get away with every little thing." Junior's the same—I have experience. "Anthony only sought out Jacob because he's protective of you. But there are limits. Jacob isn't a threat—my son is just bein' a possessive asshole. But God bless him—he loves you so much, Gabriella."

Her smile is shy. "He hasn't said it yet, but, um…he sometimes talks in his sleep?"

I squeal into my hand, trying not to cry. "And you love him, too?"

"Only since forever," she giggles.

I squeeze her hand and take a big swig of my wine; Christ, I need to calm down. But I can't help it. I just love these two together. So much that I'm not even gonna mention that she just gave away the fact that they sneak around to spend nights together.

Hey, if he knocks her up, they'll get married sooner. Though, I hope they're being safe.

Regardless, it won't be long until they do get married. Gabriella's one of us; she knows we don't live in the '90s. The calendar might say '93, but we don't act like it in our house. Junior is old school—hell, so am I. And everyone else we know. My husband might be worse, stuck in the '50s where he was born, but still, we value old traditions.

And that's why Gabriella is perfect for Anthony, because she gets it. Today, when you go to the store, you hear mothers ask their children what they want for dinner. It's a question that has changed, because in the past, they asked their children what they thought Daddy wanted for dinner.

"Anthony sometimes talks about the future—like what we'll do," she admits, eyes twinkling with happiness. "But I don't think he's aware of what he's confessing, you know?"

I wave a hand. "Juniuh was like that, too. They're way ahead up hea'." I tap my temple. "When you and Anthony are married, maybe my son will tell you the truth about me and Juniuh, and if he does, you will understand when I say that Anthony's father worked fast to make sure we were settled."

After all, he knocked me up within a few months, and we lived as a family in that little condo. Now that I know his first wife was essentially no one, it's clear that Junior wanted us settled partly because he didn't want me to leave, and partly to have a place to call home. He didn't feel at home in that big house in Henderson he shared with Jane.

"Juniuh grew up with three siblings," I continue. "A home with me wouldn't be complete until there was just as much noise around him. He basically copied what he had when he was a kid." Of course, it's a coincidence that he grew up in a family with two sons and two daughters just like we ended up with two of each, but it wasn't a coincidence that Junior wanted plenty of children. We'd most likely have more if there hadn't been complications when I had Julia. "Anthony will probably want what he grew up with." I sigh, both nervous and hopeful. I have so much faith in Gabriella, but the Maisano men are not easy to live with, and I tell her as much.

"But Mr. Maisano looks at you like the sun revolves around you," she argues with a smile. "You know what you're doing."

I laugh, amused by how sweet and naïve she is. "Oh, honey. I've been with Junior for eighteen years, and I'm still learning things about that man. And hasn't he told you to call him Juniuh?" I grin.

My husband might come off as an asshole to many, but around kids and puppies and young love, he's a big ole' softy—he just doesn't show it as much. But he loves Gabriella and Anthony together as much as I do, and I'm not the only one who already considers her family.

"No matta'." I wave a hand again, moving on. "There's a lot you need to know, but if you got the three most important things down, you're good to go." And I've already told her what those three things are. Food, sex, and attention. Like my mother prepared me, I have every intention of doing the same for Gabriella, no matter how embarrassing it might be. "All men in our family suffer from a god complex, so it takes a strong woman to deal with that. Attention is important."

Gabriella nods, chewing on her lip. "Anthony sometimes gets annoyed when I spend time with Elisa."

"You keep spending time with Elisa—your best friend, for Christ's sake." I cover her hand with mine. "Anthony will just have to learn. And then when you're with Anthony again, you'll give him some extra attention. I promise, that will make his bitchface melt away." I nod. "You'll see. And at least Anthony's easy to please when it comes to food," I chuckle.

"Yeah, what is up with that?" Gabriella laughs and widens her eyes. "All he ever wants are sandwiches."

I grin and shrug. "He's a sandwich guy. Juniuh loves his steak, and he lives for side dishes and dessert. But Anthony? Give him a sandwich and he's golden." Granted, it can't be some simple ham and cheese; it's gotta be fancy. But it's still easier than cooked meals. "Both Juniuh and Anthony have the night munchies, too. That's when Juniuh will either heat up leftovers or go for the cake. Christ, I think we go through two cakes a week in this house." I shake my head and sip my wine. "_E' quel che è_. But speaking of dessert, I think it's time we bring out the cheesecake and the coffee. We's got men waiting. And could you call down Elisa, Dominic, and Julia again?"

**Dominic's POV**

_**October 27**__**th**_

"Christ," I hiss, wiping at my cheek. Dad kissing it is one thing, but it's not all right when he's not done chewing. Now I got marinara all-fucking-over. But it's okay, right? It's okay to embarrass the kid in the family. And it's apparently even more fun to do it when we're at a restaurant surrounded by family. And strangers.

"Here you go, _piccolo tesoro_." Dad tucks a bill in my hand. "You and Julia can go buy ice cream later." Then he returns to eating and pawing at Mom under the table, and I grumble under my breath, walking back to my own table. 'Cause God forbid I sit with the adults. Instead I'm stuck with my sisters and cousins. Even Anthony and Gabriella are sitting with our parents and hers. And Zio Riley and Zia Brianna, too.

_Piccolo tesoro_ this, baby boy that. When're they gonna learn I'm growing up? I'm almost thirteen, man!

Elisa chuckles and drapes an arm around my shoulders as I sit down at the kids' table, but it's not that easy for her to do so anymore. Over the summer, I've shot up a few inches, and I'm actually taller than Elisa now. Not that it takes a lot to be taller than her and Mom. They're like midgets.

"You could've just asked me for money, you know," she tells me, and I already know. She's got a hidden stash of money—money either Dad has given her or she's won herself. She likes to gamble with the kids at school.

I shrug and stab a meatball with my fork. "No offense, but Dad just gave me a hundred for ice cream." I laugh, widening my eyes, and shake my head. "_Quanto pensa che costi il gelato?_"

"I heard you were gonna share it with me," Julia says, seated across from me.

I cross my eyes at her and scratch my eyebrow with my middle finger.

We all got our favorites in our family. Anthony and Julia are tight. But for me, it's Elisa. We're close. Julia? Forget about it! She's like a damn hurricane.

"I'm gonna tell Daddy you gave me the finger." Julia flips her hair over her shoulder.

"Oh yeah?" I smirk. "Then maybe I'll tell him that you've broken the jewelry box in your room—the one Nonna gave you."

That shuts her up. She purses her lips and scowls down at her plate, and now she doesn't have Anthony protecting her.

I got plans for that money, anyway. One of Zio Alec's boys—he's like nineteen, I think—sells me weed cheap just because he's scared of my name, and then I make a few bucks when I sell it at school.

I like it, making money my own way. Even if my parents rarely deny me, no grown-up people beg Mommy and Daddy for cash.

My parents think they're so slick, like, Dad's job is just owning this restaurant—_Stella Mia_—and being part owner of Dawn? Yeah, right. I wasn't born yesterday, and if you're only a restaurant owner, you don't need guns around the house, and you don't need to hide wads of cash everywhere. Plus, I've seen some stuff. I'm not stupid.

And if Zio Jasper was really only working at Dawn, then why was he arrested? Huh?

Not so stealthy, my family.

Dad says he _always_ finds out sooner or later, but I don't know. He hasn't caught _me_ yet.

I think the only one who's on to me is my brother. But he was doing the same shit at my age, so he won't rat me out. He's good like that. He also gives me advice and stuff, tells me not to smoke what I sell. 'Cause it'd be like a fat guy selling candy and eating it all for himself.

Anyway, Zio Alec's guy is here tonight, over by the bar having a drink with his girl, and I hope to corner him soon.

If you're looking for someone, anyone, you can always show up at _Stella_, 'cause everyone winds up here at some point during the day.

An hour or so later, after dinner and dessert, Dad and Enzo go outside to smoke, and I walk over to the bar.

"How you doin', kid?" one of the Michaels who works here asks. I think there are three.

"Can't complain." I tap my fingers on the bar. "Um, a 7 Up." Side-eyeing Mario next to me, I give a subtle nod and hear him tell his girl he forgot something in his car.

I sip my soda while Mario walks out, and then I start to follow, always feeling a little nervous.

I'm at the front door when I hear the sound of screeching tires outside. My heart starts beating mad fast as a gun with a silencer pops off two shots. It's muted and soft, but I hear it, so it must be right outside. Grasping the door handle, I'm about to open the door when a hand clamps over my mouth.

"Sometimes you really are a fucking kid," a voice hisses, and it's my brother. "You don't even know what you're walking into, Dee." He shoves me outta the way and pulls out a gun, motioning for me to be quiet. I'm frozen in place, eyes wide, and he opens the door a few inches. I hope the frosted glass of the door is enough to shield us.

"You're going down with the Diamond, Maisano," we hear someone growl outside.

Anthony spits out a low curse, peering out the door, and a second later there're tires screeching again.

"Remember when I took you driving out in the desert?" my brother asks quickly, dragging me with him outside.

A black van drives away.

I nod in a daze, seeing a body on the sidewalk in a pool of blood.

"Oh, fuck," I breathe out. "It's—it's…" _Mr. Sindone._

"Yo!" Anthony shakes me. "Eyes hea', baby bro." He grasps my shoulders. "You remember?" I nod again, gulping. "_Bene_. Here." He gives me a set of car keys. "You're about to find out what it's like to drive in the city. Get my car, Dee." He starts walking backward, looking all wild. "Follow me."

He runs, takes off in the direction the van sped off in, and I snap into action, nearly pissing my pants as I run around to the back of the restaurant where the parking lot is.

"Hey…" Mario frowns. "I thought—"

"Not now," I rush out, unlocking Anthony's car. Getting in behind the wheel, my fingers tremble as I stick in the key and turn the ignition. _Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me_. I've only driven a car like three times. And never in traffic. "FUCK!" I can't do this! I slam my hands down on the wheel, hating this.

Just as I open the car door again, ready to run inside to get Zio Riley, Mario is there.

"Scoot over," he orders, and I comply. "A thirteen-year-old driving? Come on. What's going on, kid?" He senses my panic, so he backs out quickly and drives toward the front of the restaurant.

"My b-brother's chasing—" I stammer. "Down this street." I point. "You didn't hear the shots going off?" He shakes his head no and pulls out a gun from his waistband, placing it in his lap. "Someone drove past and shot—um, Gabriella's dad, and…and…" Fuck, my dad. Something about going down with the Diamond. "Um, they've got my dad and Anthony's running after—" I close my mouth, feeling nauseated.

_Don't cry. Don't you fucking cry._

Since our plan was to see the Dunes implosion, we had dinner at _Stella_ early, so it's not dark yet. The traffic is heavy, and Mario and I keep our eyes open for any sign of Anthony.

"Did you see who took Mr. Maisano?" Mario asks. "Did you hear anythin'? What did the car look like?"

"Um." I swallow and exhale shakily. "It was a black van. I didn't see anybody, but a dude said my dad, uh, something like, 'You're going down with the Diamond.' I don't know what that means."

Mario nods in thought, and then makes a sharp turn toward the Strip. "I think I know where we can find Anthony."


	25. Vendetta 15

**Special thanks to Lisa, Lexi, and Francesca!**

* * *

**Grand Vendetta**

**Chapter 15**

**Translation:**

_Scordatelo!_ = Forget it!

_Pezzo di merda!_ = Piece of shit!

_Starà bene_ = He'll be fine.

**Anthony's POV**

"It's your funeral, kid," a security shithead mutters after letting me inside the hotel. He's three hundred bucks richer—all the cash I had on me—and I didn't hafta waste a bullet on him. Trust, I would've. If he hadn't let me in.

Panting like a madman, I run through the empty lobby and toward the stairs, having seen EJ enter here just a few minutes prior. The security guard I bribed couldn't have been the same—if EJ also bribed his way in—'cause the one I "spoke" to looked at me as if I was insane. And maybe I am, but fuck, my dad's in here somewhere.

It's easy to see, anyway. Small favors and all. The entire hotel is lit up, and outside the "No Vacancy" sign is switched on, too.

When I reach the stairwell, I look up—_The Miracle in the Desert_, my fine Italian ass. It's a fucking devil's workout. But I don't got any time to waste, so I start running again, my mouth dry from the exertion. Though I can't see anyone, I can hear the sounds of feet stomping upward. I'd spied EJ outside the hotel with a fucker I didn't recognize, but since there's already a crowd forming for the show later, I couldn't open fire right there. Security's too tight and there's media everywhere. Regardless, it's EJ and one other guy, and together they've got my father, who didn't look conscious earlier.

Dealing drugs, robbing truckers, fronting money for a fake-invoice business, _delivering messages_, committing fraud, acting as security for Dad's poker games, collecting tribute, and being a fucking driver…it's all _nothing_ when you realize you're probably minutes away from using the gun you've been trained to use since you were fourteen.

Waving a .357 around to be tough is one thing, but to actually put it to use means you gotta have balls and a heart of stone.

I'm ready, though. I know what family's about, and if this ain't a good reason for icing a fucker, I don't know what is.

Getting to the fifth floor, I bend over and breathe heavily, sweat trickling down my temples. I shrug off my suit jacket and throw it in the corridor of a floor with deserted rooms. Then I'm back in the stairwell and running. I loosen my tie, stopping for just a second 'cause I could've sworn I heard my brother…

I blink away a few beads of sweat, heart stuck in my throat, and I look down the narrow slip of air, but I see nothing.

Then I do; it's Dee, and he's whisper-yelling my name.

Jesus fucking Christ. Telling him to follow me from _Stella_ was a good idea—at the time—when I wasn't thinking and never thought he'd actually do it. Now that the shit's hit the fan, I regret it—the dangers of our world suddenly feeling like a ton of bricks sitting on my shoulders, knowing he's not ready.

Peering down once more, I catch sight of my baby brother, and I motion for him to shut the fuck up. So far, we haven't been spotted, but now I don't know how far up EJ and his little helper are with Dad.

Another head appears at the ground floor, and when I squint my eyes—I think that's Mario, a buddy of mine. He's the only dude in Alec's crew I'd trust to sell weed to Dee. I orchestrated that whole thing when I saw my brother looking for ways to make money. Like I had Nico keeping track of my ass when I was greener than I am now—well, before Dad was onto me—I'm gonna keep my eyes on Dee.

Knowing that Mario's here, I return to climbing stairs, and I don't stop until I'm not sure if EJ's higher up. I leave the stairwell, making sure the door's open a few inches. I'll wait until Mario and Dee are here, and then I'm pretty sure we gotta wait some more. Checking my watch, I see that the implosion ain't for another couple hours, and this can go several ways. Either EJ will kill my dad and then find a quick escape—though, I doubt that'll happen. If he was after a speedy fuckin' killing, he woulda just popped a bullet in my dad's head like some gangster drive-by outside'a _Stella_. Or he'll drop Dad in a room, _some-fucking-where_, and leave. That would go with his line earlier, about how Dad will go down with the Diamond. Really, when I think about it, the only question is how long EJ will linger. This hotel will go down in flames; it's just a matter of hours, and my cousin ain't known for being brave. He's vindictive, but I don't see him staying here and twiddling his thumbs.

My heart hasn't calmed down yet by the time I see Mario and Dee, and I'm pretty sure I'm in shock. I'm blank, just worrying about following this through, but I'm not arrogant or stupid enough to think I won't cry my eyes out and want my mom to hug me later. _Cazzo_. I roll my eyes and wipe at my forehead, then nod at Mario and Dee.

"Get in here." I hold open the door, and they run past me in the doorway, panting too. I stay where I am, now ready to keep watch. Sooner or later, EJ and his whoever-the-fuck will run down again, and that's when we'll start searching the floors.

"Who—what…?" Dee pants out.

I wipe my forehead and ignore him, instead facing Mario who's watching me patiently, wanting whatever info I've got. "EJ," I say, swallowing. My mouth is still too dry. "He and someone I didn't recognize."

Mario nods silently and shrugs outta his leather jacket.

"_EJ_?" My brother is surprised. "Our _cousin_?"

"He's not our fucking cousin," I spit out, clenching my fists. "I ain't getting into all that now—there's a lotta shit you don't know, bro." Letting out a breath, I lean back against the wall, and cock my head to listen for sounds in the stairwell.

"You gonna clip him?" Mario keeps his voice low.

I spare a quick glance to my brother, who looks stunned, but I don't exactly have time to comfort him or explain now.

"If I get a clean shot," I answer irritably and peek out the door. Whatever I do, I can't risk Dee's life. Fuck it—I'm not risking my own, either. Mom and Gabriella would bring me back to life, only to kill me again. Which sorta makes me smile a little to myself, though it dies quickly. By now, I guess my girl has found out her dad's dead. I mean, he was shot in the head, not moving, and there was too much blood where he was lying on the sidewalk… And I won't be there for her.

I frown and look down, my gut twisting.

"Um." Dee breathes out shakily and pushes back his hair. "Do—do you think Dad's…?"

I glare at the floor and quickly shake my head no. "Fuck that." Dad's fine.

He has to be.

~oOo~

An hour and a half later, I'm pacing in panic and impatience.

We've managed to quietly search two floors, all while keeping an eye on the stairwell, but no success. EJ is still up there somewhere—only two more floors left to go through, though we can't go higher up at this point without facing greater risks.

"Dee, run back down and get outta here," I snap, pointing to the door to the stairwell.

Thirty minutes to show time. Thirty minutes before Steve Wynn has this entire hotel in flames.

"I'm staying," my brother grits out, eyes glistening with tears. "I can _help_, Anthony."

Rushing over to him in the corridor, I push him up against a wall and glare at him furiously. "You gotta death wish, _ragazzino_?" I seethe. I fist his shirt and barely refrain from shaking some sense into him; meanwhile, I'm scared outta my _fucking_ mind. "Think about _Mom_." I lower my voice, not afraid to play that card. "Think about our sisters."

He smashes his lips together and glares back, too fucking stubborn for his own good. He knows there's nothing we can do unless we're all ready to put our lives on the line, but the time hasn't run out just yet.

We could go get help—alert the authorities and put a stop to all this, but then EJ would be arrested. He'd be behind bars instead of facing _my_ gun.

We all gotta earn our wings, right? Get our button and shit, take the oath, become a man of honor. And while I'm still years away—at least I guess so—I'm dead set on being the one who takes down EJ.

But not with my baby brother here. He's gotta get his ass to safety.

"Come on." I release him and back away, returning to the door. I hold it open wider for him. "_Get fucking going, Dominic_." I speak through clenched teeth, sweat burning in my eyes, and jerk my chin at the stairwell.

"_Scordatelo_!" he snaps, widening his arms. "You don't think I know you, huh?" He advances, sounding older than his twelve years. "The minute I'm gone, you'll go up there and chase him." He squares his jaw. "You're not gonna try'n be some hero."

I roll my eyes, pretending to be unaffected. "Does it look like I'm suicidal?" I point to my chest. "I just wanna—"

My sentence gets cut short when we suddenly hear shouting from one or two floors above. Which means the door to the stairwell wherever EJ is must be open.

Mario jumps to life, Dee's eyes widen, and I quickly close the door a couple feet. Thing is, that was definitely Dad's voice, and soon we hear more, accompanied by the sound of EJ's laughter.

Unnecessarily motioning for Dee and Mario to be quiet, I lean forward to hear better, and I grab my piece from my waistband.

_"I thought you was a man, EJ!"_ I hear Dad shout in a raspy voice. _"Get the fuck back hea' and face me like one!"_

"For fuck's sake, stop goading him," I mumble, turning to Mario and Dee. Then I frown, seeing Mario handing my brother a gun. I raise a brow at him. "Yo, he's twelve."

Mario shrugs. "Better leave him with something to defend himself with, right?"

I'd usually agree, and I know Dee's used one, but…Jesus Christ, he's my little brother.

Shaking my head, I stay outta that and refocus on the door. It doesn't take long before we begin to hear EJ and his buddy's descent. They're still laughing, and Dad's still shouting at them to get back up there.

I open the door one final time, and Mario nods at me. I nod back, the two of us taking up the doorway. Guns raised, and I say, "EJ's mine. Take down his friend."

"Got it, Maisano." Mario smirks faintly and moves his finger to the trigger.

When EJ appears on the landing, just a fifteen or so steps above this floor, I get my finger on the trigger, too, and I ignore my heart tryin'a pound its way outta my ribcage.

EJ's friend follows right after, and when both are fully visible, their laughter cuts off as they spot us.

Mario fires, and before EJ can even recover from his shock, I aim at his shoulder and pull the trigger. It echoes loudly in the stairwell, along with two screams, causing my ears to ring, but I don't let the in-fucking-sane sounds piercing my eardrums distract me. Aiming once more, I shoot EJ in the thigh, and he cries out as his knees buckle.

"Shit," I breathe out, rushing into action. Two circles of blood grow larger and larger from EJ's friend's chest, and I jump over his body to get to EJ. His eyes widen; I grab him by the collar of his shirt and shove his head down against the edge of one step. "You thought you's gonna get away, didn't you?" I keep him pushed down as I search his pockets for weapons, and I find a piece tucked down in his pants. Throwing that aside, I place a hand on his throat, squeezing him. "Looks like your dick's as small as your brain." I spit in his face and press the barrel of the gun against his cheek.

"Stop—" He chokes and his eyes bug out, his face turning red and purple from lack of oxygen.

I chuckle darkly, not feeling like myself. This fucking douche has raised too much hell around here. And coming after _my_ family?

"Finish it, Maisano," Mario says behind me, impatient. "We don't gotta lotta time."

I smile at EJ, at the fear swimming in his eyes. "Too bad I can't draw this out." That said, I release EJ's throat and fire my gun. "_Pezzo di merda!_" I don't even hear my own words for the sound of the shot. Blood splatters on the wall next to us, and I get it on my face and chest, too.

Standing up, I look at the blood on my hands—I'm all dazed and…not really here. I don't fucking know. Feels weird, though.

"Anthony." My brother gulps as my head snaps up and I face him.

I stare, kinda unseeingly, not moving a muscle. "What?" I ask.

He shakes his head slowly, lookin' scared.

"Come on." Mario walks past, upward. "We gotta find your pops and get the fuck outta here."

I nod and look down; yeah, we gotta find Dad.

Turning, I follow Mario, and I hear my brother tagging along, too.

But before I even reach the landing, another shot rings out, and all air leaves my lungs.

There's a scream.

It's like time stops, and I'm so frozen in place I can't even _feel_ anything. Regardless, I look down my front, but I see nothing wrong.

"Fuck!" Mario growls, pushing me to the side. I bump into the wall, still in shock, and watch as he raises his gun and shoots EJ's friend again. This time in the head. _Oh_. So…he didn't die before?

I think I remember Dad and Felix saying something about always aiming for the head, though. Not the chest…

I shake my head and try to clear it, but it's fucking impossible.

"Shit, Dominic." Mario rushes over to my brother next, getting down on one knee before him, and I frown, wondering what's going on. "Maisano, I gotta get your brother out." Mario doesn't turn to me; he keeps facing my brother, also blocking my view.

"Why?" I ask.

"Because he's been shot!" Mario yells.

That snaps me back to reality, and I almost stumble over myself as I hurry over.

"Dee," I choke out.

He's shaking, going into shock, and is only standing because Mario's holding him up. Then I see the blood dripping from his side, quickly coloring his shirt.

"Get him to the nearest hospital," I order, my voice wavering. "Dee—" I cup his cheek, trying to make him face me, but when he does, it's like he's not even there. "Dominic. You'll be fine. All right?"

He says nothing, and I rise from the floor. "Get him to a hospital," I repeat.

Mario nods and picks up my little brother. "I ain't facin' Mrs. Maisano alone, so you better get out alive."

I stand quietly in the stairwell with two bloody bodies a few minutes after Mario has gone down with Dee.

I pull at my hair, suddenly breathing too fast. I wanna claw at my fucking face, but instead I direct the anger away from me; I use it to climb stairs.

"Dad?" I call out hoarsely, holding onto the railing.

There's a beat of silence, then Dad's voice that betrays disbelief, anger, and relief. "Anthony?"

"Dad!" I run faster, following his voice up to the top floor.

"Jesus Christ, Anthony!"

**Junior's POV**

"You're outta your _fucking_ mind, Anthony," I croak, pushing down a sob. Squeezing my eyes shut, I let him untie my hands behind my back, and then my feet that are tied to the chair I'm sitting in. "Outta your fucking mind."

I can't think. Yeah, there's one thing. Two things. The shots I heard a moment ago…my son being up here…I think about _that_. Having my _son_ too close to danger—in a building that's about to explode. Implode. No matta'.

"You'd already given up, hadn't you?" he accuses, almost finished with the last rope.

I don't reply. Wiseguys don't usually get many options. History speaks volumes and men my rank either get clipped or end up in prison. Obviously some die of old age—Christ, I even hope it's a majority, but…

"You didn't come alone, did you?" I ask instead, and I ignore the throbbing pain in my thigh that's causing dizziness, nausea, and blurry vision. I frown, pretty sure I've lost a _lot_ of blood. And I _know_ the bullet's still in there.

That fuckin' piece'a _shit_, EJ.

What a goddamn day. I'd like to say I'm quick on my feet, but I ain't quicker than a fucking bullet. Enzo and I were just shooting the shit and smoking a cigarette after dinner. Then outta nowhere this van pulled up; EJ and a buddy of his came out, and they put bullets in us before we could even drop our smokes. Enzo got one in the head, and I got hit in my upper thigh. I remember the pain blazing through me like I was on fire, and the shock made it worse. But the pain itself is fucking worse right now. Could be the broken rib, too. At least I think it's broken. 'Cause once EJ had shoved me into the van, he kicked me in the gut 'til I blacked out. The last words I remember hearing were his accusations of me clipping his dad.

Then I woke up here. In a hallway at the Dunes.

"Come on." Anthony slides an arm around my middle and helps me up. I wince at the shooting pain and spit out a curse. "We don't have a lotta time."

"You d-didn't answer my q-question." I cough and blink, a dizzy spell washing over me. "_Cazzo_."

We begin to slowly make our way to the stairwell.

"Mario from Zio Alec's crew and Dee," he whispers.

"Oh, Jesus." I choke, putting my fist to my mouth. Coming to a stop, I turn to Anthony and cup his jaw in one hand. His eyes…they're both dead and crazed. There's a storm in there, but his expression is flat. "Anthony…" It fucking kills me to see my baby boy this way, and to find out my twelve-year-old was…or is…here, too? "What happened?" Every other pain pushed aside, my gut twists up, hurting me even more. I dread hearing his answer. "The shots," I whisper.

He swallows and urges me to walk again. "I killed EJ. Mario shot at the other fucker—we thought he was dead." His eyes well up, and he clears his throat. I watch him, even more dread creeping up. "He wasn't, and I-I didn't check. I didn't make sure."

"Anthony," I grit out, blinking back tears.

There's a lot of crap I can handle, but not seeing my kids in pain. And I need to know…

"Dee's fine—I think, but…" His bottom lip quivers. Then he forces a blank expression on to his face again. He's stony and closed off. "EJ's friend shot Dee in the side—Mario's taken him to the hospital."

I nod jerkily, unwilling to process what he's said. As we reach the stairwell and begin our descent, all I can see are the faces of my family. My wife's gotta be sick with worry, especially with Dee at the hosp— "_Fuck_," I rasp, the pain nearly blinding me. We pass two bodies a couple floors down, and I try to hold back my emotions when I see all the blood; I can't help but wonder how much of it belongs to my youngest son.

I very rarely get emotional, and it's even more rare that I show it. That's for behind closed doors, if anything.

But all bets are off when it's my children…

"_Starà bene_," I rasp out, even when I know nothing about how hurt Dominic really is. He fucking _has_ to be okay. "He'll be fine."

"I should've checked—"

"Shut up," I spit out. "It's not your fuckin' fault, _tesoro_." I don't play the goddamn blame game, because in the end, it all comes back to _me_. "Get that outta your head—_shit_." I wince and place a palm over my ribs, the spot where it hurts the most. I almost wanna climb up and kill EJ all over again. But since it hurts to breathe and the implosion's not far away, I let my son keep guiding me down.

"Only ten minutes left."

I nod and gnash my teeth together, then I suck it up and try to pick up the pace. My thigh throbs, blood steadily oozing out of the bullet wound, my ribs ache with each breath, the mother of all headaches settles in, I gasp for air, sweat and tears burn in my eyes, I'm on the verge of puking my guts out, and in the back of my head, questions start to pile up.

How did Anthony find me? How did Dominic and Mario get involved? Did that bullet really kill Enzo? Was EJ's friend involved with the Outfit?

Lastly, did the shit EJ spew out before he left the top floor really happen?

Pacing around me as I began to wake up earlier, EJ had been grinning at me, bragging about how he'd gone to Felix's place before heading to _Stella_. He told me he'd clipped his uncle—that Felix was dead. He also admitted, fuckin' gleefully, how he'd gathered evidence against Jasper to have him arrested.

We should've put a stop to him long before Anthony— Christ, I still can't believe my son had the balls to do it. So far, he's excelled in most tasks he's been given. He's wet behind the ears, and he often asks for advice, but he, much like me, is fucking made for this life. But, no matta', killing a man is different. Yet he did it. And I thought he'd have a couple more years before he had to get into all that.

When we finally reach the lobby, we can hear the insane crowd outside the hotel. Anthony and I exchange a quick look, then we move toward the reception area, 'cause there's gotta be another exit. With only a few minutes to spare, we pick up more speed, ignoring any aches, and jog through a corridor behind the front desk.

At fucking last, just when I think my leg is about to give out, we see an emergency exit. Anthony tries it first, but it's gotta be locked from the outside. It doesn't surprise us, though. No one's got business in here at this point.

"Stand back," he instructs quietly and aims his gun.

I watch as he fires, destroying the hinges, and with a few shoves we manage to push it open. Taking gulps of fresh air, I hear the countdown being shouted through the crowd on the front of the hotel. I grab Anthony's arm, running solely on adrenaline, and we start running away from the hotel. The entire area is sealed off, and there's security here and there, but we don't give a fuck. We keep running, making turns in one alley, staying near the Dumpsters in another, ducking our heads near some trees and bushes, and I send a small thanks that it's dark enough to keep us fairly shielded.

We get to a nearby low-rise building just as an ear-shattering rumble drowns out all other sounds.

"_Madonn'_," Anthony pants, standing next to me.

Leaning back against a wall, I keep my eyes glued on the imploding building. Gray smoke, flames…fireworks light up the sky, and the ground trembles with the massive destruction.

As the haze I've been in begins to clear, I drape an arm around Anthony's shoulders and pull him close. Despite being almost my height, he feels small in my arms. Screwing my eyes shut, I kiss the side of his head, only tightening my hold on him when he starts to shake with silent cries.

"You saved me," I whisper thickly, feeling the edges of my vision blacken. _Fuck_. I don't have a lot of strength left. A small breeze causes a violent shudder to run through me. I feel cold as fuck. "I think you n-need to take your old man to the hospital." I swallow hard, my leg at last failing me. Slowly, I slide down the wall, too dizzy and nauseous to get back up.

"Stay awake, Dad." Anthony's back in business. I hear the rawness of his voice, but he's alert. "I'll get help!"

When I wake up again, it's to the sound of beeping machines.

_Fuck, my head is killing me._


	26. Vendetta 16

**Sorry for the delay! RL can be rough. **

**Special thanks to Lisa, Nurse Lexi, and Francesca :-)**

* * *

**Grand Vendetta**

**Chapter 16**

**Translation:**

_Questo lo vedremo dopo che avrò finito con lui_ = We'll see about that after I'm done with him

_Non cambia una singola cosa _= It doesn't change a single thing

_La famiglia è tutto_ = Family is everything

**Hummingbird's POV**

"Okay, Anthony. I feel like slapping you again, so you can go." I wave away my son and stir some cream into my coffee.

He chuckles, kisses my temple, and gets up to leave the cafeteria. "I'll drive over to the Sindones for a bit, a'ight?"

I nod absently, then remember. "Stop by our house and grab one of the casseroles in the freezer!"

Poor Carm and Gabriella. I still can't believe Enzo's dead—God rest his soul.

Once Anthony has left, it's just me, Brianna, and Victoria—Junior's youngest sister who flew in from Kansas City yesterday. Oh, and the cunt of a cafeteria lady who glares at us every now and then because we brought our own food from _Stella_. Alec dropped it off earlier.

I won't be caught alive with hospital food.

I've got standards.

"How're you feelin', hon?" Victoria asks, concerned.

I offer a tight-lipped smile. "I'll be fine." Truth is, the past two days have been an emotional rollercoaster. I already knew something was terribly wrong when Junior, Dominic, and Anthony never returned to the restaurant, and the second Riley stepped outside to see if Junior and Enzo were still out there… I can't even describe it. We worried for what felt like an eternity, and then, eventually, I learned that my youngest boy was in the hospital with a gunshot wound.

At the same time, in that damn mess, we all found out that Felix had been taken to the hospital for the same fucking reason.

As if all that wasn't enough, Junior was admitted an hour or so later, and guess what! He'd been shot.

Nobody, and by that I mean the men in our family, will tell me anything. Not Felix, not Ed, not Riley, not Alec, not that Mario kid who brought Dominic to the hospital. Not even my oldest son who I've been acting like a mental case to; he won't open that goddamn mouth of his! _Madonn'_, I could just strangle the fucker!

The police are just as irritated with Anthony, 'cause he's got answers, but he told one officer, and I quote, "Yo, unless you take me in, I got nothing to say. And if you do slap those fuckin' cuffs on me, I'll wait for my lawyer to get there before I even open my mouth. We clear? You'll hafta wait 'til my father wakes up."

I remember standing in the hall with him, completely stunned.

And you know, it clicked for me. He knows _too_ much. All the little things in the past, and now how he's suddenly got more money—_Stella_ doesn't pay that well, and he says he's too old for allowance. And like I said, he knows too much. He knows his rights, and I don't see why a seventeen-year-old would be aware of all that unless…

So, once I understood he's got more common with my husband than I ever wanted, I've been even more of a nut job. I confronted him; he didn't deny it. He just pursed his lips and that was that.

It's clear that Anthony saved his father from whatever, so one second I'm all over him, kissing him and thanking him for being so brave and wonderful and strong. Then the next second I'm there to smack him upside the head.

I'm _so_…I'm so _fucking _mad—_furious_, that he's joined the family business.

I'm also angry with myself for not seeing it sooner, for not preventing it, and don't get me started on Junior. Mother of _Christ_, I just wanna wring his goddamn _neck_. All this is connected somehow, and I demand to know how my twelve-year-old son got shot, nearly rupturing his spleen.

Praise Jesus no vital organs were damaged. I don't know if I'd be able to take it.

"Honey—" Brianna puts her hands over mine. I've killed my napkin; it's in shreds. "Junior and Dominic will be fine."

I nod and take a breath.

"Our brother is too stubborn to die," Victoria says with a firm nod.

"_Questo lo vedremo dopo che avrò finito con lui_," I spit out.

But who am I kidding? We all know I won't say much. Junior's a wiseguy, and I fucking knew that when I met him. I knew it when he ignored condoms, and I knew it when I gave birth to our children. I knew the world we were giving them. I can blame my husband for being who he is, I can blame myself for wanting him, I can blame Anthony for not choosing his own path, _another_ path…

"I want to blame someone," I whisper, wiping a stray tear away from my cheek. "I want to know why my baby boy is being treated for a fucking gunshot wound." I choke up and cover my mouth with a hand, Brianna immediately coming over to my side of the table to comfort me. "Why won't Anthony tell me?" I sniffle. "He knows I won't tell a damn soul. The thought is fucking ridiculous." And more than a little insulting. I raised that little shit, and just because he's a man and happens to be a foot taller than me…it ain't got shit on this—I'm his fucking mother!

"You know why, Bella." Brianna places an arm around me. "Anyone could be listening."

I sigh and grab a new napkin to wipe under my eyes.

"And you refuse to leave the hospital," Victoria adds gently.

I scoff. "Well, I'm not leaving _now_." They're taking Junior off the sedatives as we speak, and they're waking up our son tomorrow. Dominic is stable too, thank God, but the doctors said they wanted to keep him in a medically-induced coma for another day to recover from his surgery.

"It will still be a few hours 'til Junior wakes up, though," Brianna reasons, wanting me to go home. "Everyone will be back tonight, anyway."

I know. Elisa and Julia are out in Henderson with Junior's parents, though they'll all be here tomorrow morning. Gianna's at home, cleaning up the mess _someone_ left behind after shooting Felix. I don't really know a lot about them other than Felix is fine; it was just a graze at the side of his head. He's already been discharged, and I bet he's at Twilight now. That's where Riley and Alec are, too.

Alice has stopped by, but she's got Nico, Lucia, and Sophia to entertain now. Esme has been staying with her since my brother was arrested.

Rose…well, she's outta our lives. She and Theresa live in Florida, and I don't know if EJ has plans to move there, too. But Anna's staying in Carson City, as far as I know.

"Any'a youse heard from Maria?" I ask, needing a topic change. It's been quiet from Alec's wife ever since she caught him with his goomah. I hope she's all right, but I honestly can't find it in me to care too much at this point. Mainly, I hope they'll be okay since they've got AJ, and he's too young to suffer through a divorce. Not that I think Alec will ever grant Maria one.

"She went to visit her parents in Sicily for a while," Brianna answers.

"Huh," is all I've got to say. Checking my watch, I wonder if Junior could do me a favor and just wake up already. He needs to answer my questions, and he needs to give me a damn good reason for lying.

I remember back in the day, I made Junior promise never to lie to me. I told him that keeping his mouth shut and refusing to answer me was one thing, 'cause I know too well about the family business and that it's not for a wife's ears. But it was an empty promise, and not only on my husband's end. I've lied to him, too. Hell, we lie to each other all the time, but for Christ's sake, it's little white lies. They're about work, about shielding our children, about…about small things. I make him believe I'm always hungry for him, because I want him to feel wanted and desired. Trust me, he _is_ desired, but after a long day of taking care of the children, the house…I don't always have to be horny, do I? But I push all that aside if Junior wants to get some. 'Cause it's what my mother taught me; what I won't do, some other bitch will. So, I fucking do it. Juniuh's _my_ man—I take care'a him. Besides, it makes me feel better about myself. I get to please my husband, and I know that I do my best at all times. And Junior gets his shit greased.

Elisa has been a little rebel growing up, and while I tried to keep her in check, Junior would've silenced her immediately. There's no way his baby girl should act any way other than the angel he wants her to be. So, I lied for Elisa's sake—so that she could explore and spread her wings a bit, too.

Junior has done the same with Anthony. He has protected our son.

I get it. To an extent. With me looking the other way, blind as a bat, Anthony became a regular at Dawn to watch those girls… Yet, he remained my precious little boy for a while longer. Junior made it possible for me to baby Anthony.

Those are the kinds of lies I can live with. They're sorta innocent.

But when it comes to _lives_ of our children? If they're in _danger_?

It wasn't long ago Junior told me to give him some credit—he asked, "What do you take me for?" when I'd pleaded with him not to involve Anthony in his professional life. That I even suspected Junior of involving Anthony was ridiculous—it was so implied in his words.

But it wasn't ridiculous at all. It was a blatant lie: a big, fat one. Right in my fucking face.

Now…who knows how deep into it Anthony is? Well, Junior knows. Anthony knows. But they won't fucking tell me!

I sigh and run a hand through my hair. Despite my shower in Junior's room this morning, it feels dirty and messy. With a grimace, I slide off the rubber band around my wrist and yank my hair back in a high ponytail.

"What're you thinking?" Victoria asks softly.

I purse my lips and shake my head. "I always thought I handled this life well. I'm a damned good wife and a great mother. But…"

"No buts." Brianna frowns. "You _are_ all that."

"I wanna punch Junior in the fucking balls," I seethe.

Brianna and Victoria wince, chuckling.

"At the same time…" I let out a noise of disgust and then a sigh. "At the same time, I want him to wake up so I can hug him, kiss him, see for myself that he's okay… Still, I honestly don't know how I can get past this kind of lying. I mean, he's let our seventeen-year-old son work for him. Or whatever." I wave a hand, having no clue about the details. "Anthony's in the business now, and it kills me."

"I hear ya, hon." Brianna nods. "If I ever find out that Riley's been letting Colin into that goddamn life, I'll…"

"You'll what, sis?" Victoria smiles ruefully. "What can you really do?"

We grow quiet, all knowing the answer.

There's nothing we can do, except for letting our disappointment and dismay show. We can fight our husbands to hell and back, but then? Nothing. _Non cambia una singola cosa_.

"I'm gonna guilt-trip the _shit_ outta Juniuh," I say with a sneer. It's my safest best, 'cause he deserves to get a taste of the misery I've lived through these past couple of days. Releasing a breath, I stand and zip up my thin, hooded sweatshirt. "I'm gonna go out for a smoke, and then I'll walk over to the chapel for a bit." I rarely smoke these days, but I need one now.

~oOo~

The minute the doctors tell me Junior's waking up, I kiss Dominic on the forehead and promise to be back soon. I'd like to think he can feel my presence even if he's not awake.

When I get to my husband's room, I nod at his sisters who're standing outside. Brianna tells me she's gonna give their mother a call, and I think they'll call everyone we know to say Junior's awake.

"Tell my girls I love them," I request, and Brianna nods. It wasn't my choice for Elisa and Julia to go out to Henderson, and it sure wasn't my daughters' choice, either. But we couldn't have them at the hospital, 'cause they were too upset. Elisa's super close to Dominic, and Julia isn't reassured when the doctors say everything will be fine. She's too young to push back emotions. Besides, Elizabeth needed a distraction, a job, before she worried herself to death over her son.

Speaking of that son…I open the door to Junior's room just as the doctor is explaining my husband's injuries.

Not caring about the medical terms flying outta the doc's mouth, I rush over to Junior's side and pull the chair as close as I can before sitting down.

"_Bell'uccellino_," Junior rasps, reaching for my hand.

My eyes fill up with tears rapidly, and I ignore deciphering the storm building inside me. There's relief, there's anger. It is what it is. I'll deal with it in time. Right now I'm just happy to see him alive.

Instead of speaking, knowing my voice will fail, I bring our clasped hands to my face and kiss the top of his. I shake my head minutely, tears falling down, and I can't say a single word.

"I'll give you some privacy," the doctor murmurs. "Remember, Mr. Maisano: try not to use your voice yet." Then he makes his exit.

And my husband ignores the doctor's advice.

"How—how's Dominic?" Junior breathes out as his own eyes well up. I press my lips together; it's one of those times where you know you'll wail and sob if you so much as open your mouth. He tries to clear his throat and winces in obvious pain. "Will he b-be okay?"

I manage a small nod at that.

"They're waking him up tomorrow," I choke out, my bottom lip trembling. Tears continue to fall freely. "They'll hold youse for a while." I take a shaky breath. "Dominic will stay here longer."

Junior nods faintly and screws his eyes shut. "Anthony…okay?"

"Yeah." I blow out a breath, my oldest son's name bringing forth such a crazy mix of emotions. The fury helps me keep my sobs at bay. "How do _you_ feel?" I eye the IV, the machines, and the various tubes attached to my husband. "Maybe you should listen to the doctor."

He waves it off tiredly with his free hand. "Headache, sore throat—nothin'a worry about," he rasps in a whisper.

We fall silent.

At this point, his fingers caressing mine is the only contact I want. It makes me feel horrible, but the image of my son in a hospital bed is enough to make me wanna scream.

"I would never intentionally…" He pauses to catch his breath, and I tell him to stay quiet and keep calm, but he waves me off again. "…never put them in d-danger, Isabella," he croaks, a couple tears rolling down his cheeks. He lies still, facing the ceiling. My heart stutters. "Never—"

"I know, _ciccino_. I know that." I squeeze his hand. I hear the exhaustion in my voice. "You're a damn good father."

He smiles; it's a little sad, a little bitter, a lot hollow. "But—you resent me." He looks haunted and tortured as his eyes meet mine. "I can see it." He touches my cheek before letting his hand drop.

I go with honesty. "I resent myself, too." I swallow and look down. "I'll get over it. I just need time. You focus on getting better—"

"Ah, stop that shit," he groans, then coughs and clears his throat. "I-I don't give a fuck about—" He squeezes his eyes shut again. "Jesus. You gonna hate me now? I mean…fuck, _that's_ what I can't deal with."

"Don't get into this now, Juniuh," I warn quietly. "I am trying my hardest to give you space—time to heal and recover. You're tired, you're in pain, and you're all drugged up. Trust me, I _will_ ask my questions, and I will do everything in my power to get my answers, but not now. It won't be pretty. Not for all the lying you've done."

His eyes that had been narrowed during most of my rant widen slightly before he frowns deeply, seemingly confused. "Wh-what?" He clears his throat for the umpteenth time. "What'chu talkin' 'bout?"

I barely manage to keep my anger bottled up. "About our son, maybe?" I cock a brow and cross one leg over the other as I lean back in my seat. A big part of me still wants to cling to Junior, or at the very least grasp his hand again, but…I _can't_. "About Anthony, Juniuh," I seethe, leaning forward just a few inches. "He works for you—" He opens his mouth to speak, but I hold up a hand. "I ain't talkin' about _Stella_, so save the bullshit for someone who believes it." Then I scoff, mad at myself once more—or even more than I was before. "I used to be that person." I grit my teeth and look down at my lap, at my fingernails. "You played me like a fucking fool."

I can handle many lies, because I can see the big picture, but there are limits.

My husband's lies about Anthony…_right in my face, he lied_…I feel betrayed. So fucking betrayed.

"He told you?" he whispers.

I shake my head no, keeping my eyes averted. "I figured it out. When I confronted him, he didn't deny it."

"I'm sorry."

"So am I." I chuckle without humor. "So am I, Juniuh."

"Baby…" His tears are back. "I'm sorry—_cazzo_, I really am. You have no idea."

"No." I don't touch him. Not now. "Go to sleep or whatevuh." I wave a hand. Fuck. Why did he have to bring this up now? I told him to wait. Goddammit. "I'll be hea'." I always will be. But he can't get away with this with just a slap on the wrist.

We grow quiet, silent tears rolling down, and when I feel my anger boiling up again, I leave the room for a while. He _just_ woke up. I need to give him breathing room. So, I figure it's best to stay away while he rests up.

I've never been this torn between two emotions before—the need to love him, hold him protectively, and the need to curse him out, fucking _hurt_ him.

I get smiles in concern from the women in our family. Pats on the back, murmurs of comfort, whispers of support and understanding.

From the men, I get the hugs and the "There, there—this will blow over."

_Gimme a gun and I'll show them how it can blow over! _

**Junior's POV**

"I love you so much," I choke out, kissing Dominic's hand. I hold it in both mine, refusing to let go. "I'm so fucking sorry, baby."

"Dad…" He groans.

By now, he's embarrassed by the display of affection—like I give a fuck. I don't think I've ever been this scared in my life. Well, the fire at the MGM all those years ago would be it.

Fucking hell, everything's a mess. My wife will barely talk to me, my youngest son just woke up a few hours ago, Anthony's trying to avoid Isabella's bitch slaps while also being there for Gabriella who just lost her father, and then Felix's run-in with EJ, my own goddamn injuries…it's too much to deal with at once.

Isabella's sitting on the other side of Dominic's hospital bed, yet it feels like she's miles away.

To top it all off, the police want statements—today—and I need to get my sons alone before I can open my mouth.

We need to settle on a story to stick to.

"Is there anything I can get you, _topolino_?" Isabella asks Dominic and wipes her cheeks.

"I'm fine," he rasps. "Thirsty…"

"Elisa will be here soon with ice chips," Isabella says, crying silently.

I swallow my own emotions, wishing she'd let me comfort her. One second I'm mad at her for pushing me away, then the next…I know I deserve it. It physically hurts—_it motherfucking aches_—but I had this coming. My wife is already so damn accepting and giving; I shouldn't've taken shit this far. I should've told Anthony to come clean to his mother—not about details, obviously—or I should've told her myself.

The thing is, I'm gonna lie to her again. I _have_ to.

I can promise her to be more forthcoming when it's Dominic's turn to join the family, 'cause I know that day is coming. But I cannot tell Isabella how our youngest son was hurt a few days ago. That's one truth I want to protect her from. It would kill her if she knew. She'd go crazy with the "what if"s.

Yesterday, when Isabella left my room to be with Dominic, I spoke briefly with Pops. There wasn't much we could say in my hospital room, but I do know the police already have proof of me and Anthony being at the Dunes. I think one of the security guys talked.

But they don't know Dominic and Mario were there.

I intend to keep it that way.

"Dad, shouldn't—you rest?" Dominic croaks.

I shake my head. There's no way I can leave my son. "Not yet." I tried to fight the doctor about the fucking wheelchair, but one look from Isabella shut me up. Regardless, I'm on too many painkillers to be in physical pain. There's a whole lotta ache, my head, my ribs, my throat, my goddamn thigh…but it's dull at the moment.

He hums and glances between me and Isabella. "Are youse fightin'?"

"No," Isabella says right away. "We're just focusing on you, honey."

I don't add anything to that.

"You're lyin'," Dominic mumbles sleepily, closing his eyes.

I let out a breath and drop my forehead to his hand, still holding on to it.

And I pray to God that everything will be okay between me and my wife. I pray that Dominic will recover quickly. I pray that I will be able to stick closer to the truth when Isabella asks, and I pray I can make things up to her.

_La famiglia è tutto_.


	27. Vendetta 17

**Special thanks to Lisa, Lexi, and Francesca! :-)**

* * *

**Grand Vendetta**

**Chapter 17**

**Translation:**

_Ti prego perdonami, Isabella = _Please forgive me, Isabella.

_Sei sempre stata perfetta per me = _You've always been perfect for me.

_La mia mocciosa preferita_ = My favorite brat.

_Mi sei mancata_ = I missed you.

**Anthony's POV**

Since Dee and Pop were in the hospital, they missed Enzo's funeral. Now, a week and a half later, we've just had dinner at _Stella_ in his honor—well, we're about to wrap up dessert.

Almost everyone in the family is here, including everyone in the younger generation who has left Vegas for college and whatnot. Only, Rosalie's part of the family doesn't really count anymore. EJ's dead, Emmett's dead, and Rosalie lives with Teresa in Florida. Her oldest, Anna, lives with her fiancé in Carson City.

Zio Jasper is obviously not here, either.

It's freaky how easy it is to tune them all out, though. Focus lands on my girl.

"You okay, _micina_?" I murmur, placing an arm on the back of Gabriella's chair. She's dressed impeccably in some gorgeous purple dress, not a hair outta place, and just a little makeup, but behind all that perfection is a sorrow that I wish I could take away for her.

Ever since Enzo was killed, I've been staying with Gabriella and her mother. Carm's a mess, too, and I'm glad she's decided to go visit her parents in Philly for a while. She leaves tomorrow, and my girl thankfully decided to stay behind.

"Hangin' in there," she sighs softly with a weak smile. "Have I thanked you yet for everything you've done?"

"Countless times." I pick up her hand and kiss the inside of her wrist, where the charm on her bracelet lingers. "Don't worry about it. I just want you to feel better."

"I'll be fine." She releases a breath and rests her head on my shoulder. "I think it will be easier once all this blows ova'." I hum and kiss her hair, and she turns her head and buries it in my armpit. She's still my weirdo. "I love you so much, Anthony."

That shit right there will _never_ get old. The first time she said it was after her dad's funeral, so I was a little scared she'd only said it because her emotions were all over the fucking place. But I said it back, 'cause it's the truth, and later she admitted that she's felt that way about me for a long time.

"I love you, too." Tilting up her chin, I kiss her on the lips. "You've got that look in your eyes again—stop it." Every once in a while, she gets this haunted expression 'cause she's thinking about what I went through at the Dunes. She doesn't know the details, but I told her another version—the one we told the cops. "I'm not going anywhere, a'ight?"

Gabriella smiles tightly. "Do you know when you're comin' ova' later?"

"Okay, that was…weird." I clear my throat, avert my eyes, and loosen my tie. I mean…I only know of one other woman who can change the subject that fast and plaster a smile on her face, and that woman is my fucking mother. It's how she silences Dad before there can be a fight. "You gotta stop spending so much time with my mom," I tell her, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. "You're starting to act like her."

"She's taught me a lot."

I nod, getting that, but… "Still. It's you I'm in love with. Not…" I make a face and turn back to my forgotten cake. I shovel some into my mouth and say, "I'll hurry back to you tonight. I promise."

I can't fucking wait 'til we get our own place. Just gotta get some shit fixed first.

"_Bene_," she purrs, dropping a sensual kiss on my neck. My fork clanks against the plate. _Holy fuck_. I feel her hand gliding up my thigh. "I'll be waiting, _ciccioleone_."

I nod dumbly.

**Junior's POV**

Alice, Esme, Sophia, and Lucia are the first to leave _Stella_. Nicola's wife and newborn son follow, and then Carm and Gabriella.

Next is Isabella who wants to let Dominic rest. He's eager to go home, too, but not 'cause he's tired. He hates the wheelchair, probably as much as I hate my cane, but it is what it is. It's not forever. However, he doesn't _have_ to use the chair like I gotta use the cane. The doc said he's good for walking, as long as he doesn't overdo it and rests a lot. But Isabella being Isabella, she insisted on a wheelchair since we were leaving the house.

Dominic agreed when Isabella threw in a new video game as a bribe.

"Do you want me to help you?" I ask her, keeping my voice low. "I don't have to go right away."

With everything up in the air around us, tonight will be the first night we're all gathered—Felix, Pops, me, Riley, and Alec. Nico, Joseph, Anthony, and Mario are coming, too.

"It's okay." She offers a tight-lipped smile. "You have fun at the _strip club_." She said that all condescendingly.

"What the…?"

I grasp her wrist, angry, when she starts to walk away, and I usher her into my office in the back of the restaurant.

"Juniuh," she protests when I lock the door behind us, "I don't want to keep Dominic waiting. He needs to rest."

"He can wait five fucking minutes," I snap. "Now, explain that little comment back there." She knows what I'm talking about. It's Twilight—yeah, a strip club, but the way she said it… "Why'd you say it like that?"

"What?" She widens her eyes. "It _is_ a strip club, isn't it? I just told you to have fun."

I smile darkly, beyond pissed. I mean…after all these years, she decides to doubt me now. Just because everything's not sunshine and roses between us.

"We've talked business at Twilight for the past twenty years," I say. "If I didn't care about our vows, don't you think I woulda stepped out on you already?" She flinches as if I've slapped her, and I close the distance between us. "Give me one reason I should cheat on you." I grab her jaw, forcing her to look me in the eye. "Have I ever made you believe I would?"

"No, but…" She averts her eyes as they well up. "We're fighting."

I shake my head slowly. "You're ignoring me. I'm on my fucking knees for you." Metaphorically. I've begged, pleaded. She has no idea how much I miss her. Or how sorry I am. I keep telling her, but one look at Anthony or Dominic and she bursts into tears. "That's not a fight."

I make no excuses; I believe I deserve this, too, but to even think that I'd step out on her? Jesus Christ, that's cold. She's been the only woman for me since the day I trapped her as my goomah.

"I'm not ignoring you," she spits out. "I'm just trying to get over this."

"I get it!" I growl. When she tries to move away, I follow and squeeze her jaw. "Stop tryin'a get away from me." Hit with a wave of fury and possessiveness, I back her into a wall and drop the goddamn cane on the floor. "Now—" I nuzzle the soft skin of her cheek and groan "—this is better, dontcha think?" I breathe her in, pained about the fact that I gotta force her to be close to me. This is the closest I've been in days. "You smell good," I murmur huskily. To show her just how much I desire her, I press my stiffening cock against her stomach. "Feel what you do to me, baby?" My hand slides down so my fingers curl around her throat. "That's all you—all yours."

Unlike some other men I know, I wouldn't sink my cock into the first pussy that comes my way just because my wife is pissed at me. There's only one I want, and that's the one between my wife's thighs.

"Juniuh," she chokes out, pushing against my chest. "Please don't do this. Please, please, please."

I chuckle humorlessly, dying a little bit inside. "You don't want me no more, huh?" Hating myself for frightening her, I drop my forehead to her shoulder and bury my face in her silky hair. It's home—the same scent I've come home to for almost two decades. "You know I'll never give you a divorce, right?"

"I'm not asking for one," she cries. "I just want some space. Please—you're scaring me."

"I love you," I say thickly. Tears burn behind my closed lids, but I'm sick of showing weakness. I've cried too much already. "Tell me what to do to make it better instead."

I know I've betrayed her. When Anthony was little, I promised Isabella we would try to steer our sons in another direction than the one I chose. I promised we would encourage him to go to college. I promised we would warn him of the dangers that came with my job.

Not only did I fail at that—I didn't even try—but I didn't give my wife a chance to try, either. I withheld the truth, letting her believe Anthony wanted to be in the restaurant business. And while she knew of the risks, that it was a possibility our son would choose my lifestyle anyway, she trusted me when I promised we'd at least attempt to give him other options.

She didn't ask for much. A simple fucking try.

"I'm sorry," I utter in a strangled voice. "I'm so sorry, _bell'uccellino_. Forgive me." When I realize I'm still grasping her throat, albeit loosely, I let go and pepper kisses on her face. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. _Ti prego perdonami, Isabella_."

"You know I will! I told you from the beginning." She wipes angrily at her tear-stained cheeks. "Just—Christ, just back off a bit. Lemme breathe." I obey and take a step back. "God, you infuriate me, Juniuh." She glares up at me. "How many times do I gotta tell you? I'm mad at myself, too. I'm so fucking conflicted. If it weren't for your deceiving me and making Anthony your little mini-Juniuh, I wouldn't have you here today." She starts crying again. "I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I lost you. But, but—" she lets out a sob "—I hate the dangers you've added to his life—a life that's already not the safest." She shakes her head, looking as miserable as I feel. "All I want is time to let this settle. _Please_ give me that. You've known for a long time—remember that. But I _just_ found out that my son is a fucking gangster."

I nod and look away, discreetly blinking back my emotions.

"But I apologize for what I said out there," she says, sounding more put-together now. "It wasn't right. You've always been faithful, and I love you even more for it. I got spooked 'cause I haven't been the wife I usually—"

"You're perfect," I cut in, meaning every word. "_Sei sempre stata perfetta per me_."

She smiles sadly. "It goes both ways, _ciccino_. You're all I want, but I swear to Christ—" fire flashes in her eyes and she points a finger at me "—if you don't give me a heads up about Dominic…"

I swallow hard, feeling guilty as fuck. As far as she knows, Dominic, Mario, Enzo, and I were involved in a drive-by shooting just outside'a _Stella_. While Enzo was murdered and I was taken, Mario managed to drag Dominic away.

The rest of the story we're sticking to—and have told the cops—is that Anthony stepped outside the restaurant just as the van pulled away, and therefore he was able to follow and track me down.

It's another lie, but I don't even wanna imagine the heartache Isabella would suffer if she knew the truth. And I didn't lie solely for her or myself. I also did it for Anthony. He's already beating himself up for including Dominic, which was just a mistake on his part—nothing I can fault him for. But if Isabella's conflicted now…think how devastated she'd be if her anger was directed at Anthony. She'd hate herself for allowing even the smallest part of her to resent her own son. It's easier for all of us if she's just mad at me—and herself, as she said—for a while. Because our children will always be her babies. She wants them safe and protected.

That's how all the women are in our family, which is why we've also left EJ out of the whole mess. To us men, he was a two-bit scumbag who betrayed the family—goddamn rat bastard. He was out to kill; it was a fucking vendetta, one his father started. But to the women? EJ was the little shit who had a crush on my wife, he was Felix's nephew and godson, Alice's nephew too, Esme's grandson, a cousin to many, Emmett and Rosalie's son, Anna and Sophia's big brother…

To the police, this will be another unsolved case.

To our wives, we've said we've dealt with it—end'a story.

"Can you promise me, Edward?" she asks tightly, and it ain't often she uses my real name.

I sigh and limp closer, taking her hands in mine. "You want me to tell you what I know about Dominic? Fine." I grimace and tighten my hold on her hands, 'cause I don't want her to slap me. "He sells weed to his buddies in school. There you go." I won't rat out Anthony; oh, I fucking know that my oldest is involved there. No matta'. Dominic is different. He's too young, anyway. Not even thirteen yet.

"Are you kidding me?" Isabella grits out, sinking her red fingernails into my hands. I cock a brow and stare her down; she lets go. "That little bastard," she seethes. "And you!" She shakes her fist at me. "God, you—" She makes a face and waves me off. "Lemme cool off. Ugh, men!" I watch as she begins to pace in front of my desk. "Youse're fuckin' impossible to live with!"

Okay, this I can deal with. Isabella's just fucking sexy when she gets going with her fiery rants. As long as she doesn't take it too far.

"When'ya gonna learn?!" she shouts. "Playing around with guns and selling drugs don't make your dicks bigger!"

No, but they pay for our house, our vacations, the jewelry…

She knows all that. My hummingbird may have a heart of gold, but she's no angel—only in my eyes, really. Ignorance is bliss. She doesn't really want to know where our money comes from—as long as it's there. She wants our kids to grow up like she didn't, and I make sure of it.

The wife is actually also a source of money, 'cause she's turned _Stella Mia_ into one of the most popular restaurants off-Strip. Which makes it easier for Anthony to fib with the books.

No one questions the money flow at a restaurant that's successful. And less suspicion means less thorough evaluations from the health inspectors and the IRS. Nobody knows Anthony is the provider of _Stella's_ alcohol supply—all stolen goods. Same goes for the more expensive ingredients in Isabella's recipes, like lobster, truffles, oysters, and other shit that's imported.

Who knew there was so much dough in food?

Anthony obviously did.

It pains me that we have to find a new head chef, though. Enzo was a real asset—and a good friend.

"JUNIUH!" Isabella shouts, startling me. "Are you even listenin' to me?!"

"Lower your fucking voice," I warn quietly. "Yeah, I'm listening." Picking up the cane, I walk over to her and crash my mouth to hers. "And as much as I love it when you get going—" I nip at her bottom lip "—I gotta go."

"Animal," she bitches, though there's not a lot of hostility left in her voice. I'll consider that a triumph. "Just get outta hea'."

"Tell me you love me first."

She fights a smile. "I love you a little."

"Oh!" I pull her to me again and growl against her neck. "Try again—and try betta'." Relief floods me. While she's still mad, I can finally see the light at the end of the tunnel.

"I love you a fair amount," she giggles.

_Madonn', music to my ears. _

I smack her ass. "Not good enough." Cupping her cheeks, I peer down at her gorgeous face. "I need you to love me at least half as much as I love you," I murmur.

"Oh, _ciccino_." Her eyes glisten. "_Much_ more than that." She bites her lip, perhaps preventing herself from saying something—maybe something that would ruin the moment.

I grin and do it for her. "But sometimes I'm a fucking bastard?"

She lets out a shaky laugh. "You said it." Then she tugs on my tie. "Okay, go. I'mma fix my makeup before I go out. But you—" she pulls me down for a kiss "—come home to me soon. There might even be cake in the fridge."

That means I'm only one level away from amazing. Next she'll offer up her pussy to me again.

"I'll hurry," I promise. With one more smooch, we part ways for now.

Outside the restaurant, Dad, Joseph, and Felix are about to hop into one car, but my father gives me a grin and a laugh—finding it so fucking hilarious that I'm walking with a cane—and then they're gone. Maria, who came home from Sicily a couple days ago, is being ushered into another car, and Alec tells us that he's gonna drive her home and then we'll meet up at Twilight. That's when I learn that AJ, their son, is spending the night at our house; he and Dominic are gonna play video games.

"You got a ride, Junior?" Riley asks as I look for Sal, my wife's driver. He's probably pulling the car around.

"You goin' straight to the club?" I ask, eyeing my sister. But I get my answer as her driver pulls up at the curb, which means Riley isn't taking detours. "I'll ride wit'chu," I tell him. Adjusting my cufflinks, I peer down the sidewalk and spot—oh, fuck that. "Elisa!" I shout. "Get the fuck ova' hea!" That little brat needs a goddamn leash. "You too, kid!" I point to Mario, who Elisa was flirting with.

"Be easy on them, big brother," Brianna laughs and gets into her car.

I ignore her.

"What, Dad?" Elisa asks impatiently. She probably thinks I'm embarrassing her. But I wasn't put on this earth to make dating easy for my baby girls.

"You, go over to Dominic and Julia." I steer her in the direction of her brother and sister. "And you—" I cup the back of Mario's neck "—you want me to break your face?" I ask casually, dusting some invisible lint off his shoulder. "That's my angel over there. Consider her off-limits unless you wanna see the bottom of Lake Mead. _Capisce_?"

"Yes, sir." He nods quickly.

When I dismiss him, he walks over to Anthony and Nico, who're laughing at him.

I shake my head. _Fuckin' kids these days._

"Daddy!" Julia runs over to me. "Elisa just called you a jerk."

Elisa follows with her mother's fury in her eyes. "God, you're such a—"

"Enough!" I shout, coming between them. "Christ, if I acted like youse when I was a kid, my parents woulda beat me! You know, back in the old days—"

"Oh, here he goes," Elisa drawls, then mimics me: "Back in the old days, we didn't even have shoes, blah, blah—you were born in the '50s, Dad, not the eighteen hundreds."

"Ay!" I grasp her shoulder and glare furiously at her. "Fucking manners, Elisa!" Whatta brat! "_Madonn'_, where's Mom—"

"Right here," Isabella says behind me. "And our girls obviously don't know dick about respect."

When I look to her, I breathe out in relief and see that there's no trace of sadness left. Her hair is flawless, makeup perfect, and she can handle our daughters like it's nobody's business. Thank Christ. 'Cause I can't fucking deal with this.

"Julia, if you wanna spend the night with Nonna and Nonno, you better go over thea'—" She points to my mother's car down the street, where she's waiting and talking to her driver. "And, Elisa, Sal is right there. Get in the car." Next she walks over to Anthony, whispers something in his ear, to which he nods and kisses her cheek. Then she's back, directing Sal on how to help Dominic into the car and fold the wheelchair. AJ's next, piling into the car, and I only stand to the side, kinda awed. And impressed. The wife knows what she's doing. Not that I ever doubted, but I probably wouldn't last a week in her shoes.

"You ready?" Riley asks.

I nod. "Gimme a sec." Walking over to Isabella, I kiss her and tell her one more time that I'll hurry home.

"Good." She smiles and wipes lipstick traces off my mouth. "And please don't put too much strain on your leg, _ciccino_. The doctor told you to rest for four weeks. You barely lasted four days."

"Yeah, yeah." I wave off her concern. I've got painkillers for a reason. "I'll be fine. See you at home later."

~oOo~

"Make room for my crippled son!" Dad shouts as I walk into Twilight.

I shake my head and sit down in the large booth where Felix, Dad, and Joseph are already sitting. Riley follows, and as I order my drink, Alec, Nico, Anthony, and Mario arrive, too. The last three grab chairs since the booth is full.

A few watch the strippers on stage, a few just sit around and shoot the shit.

"I always thought you'd be a little older than forty-one when the cane came out," Dad says and squeezes my shoulder. "But I love you anyway, my precious boy." He grabs my face and kisses my cheek loudly.

"You're just happy that, for once, I can't outrun you." I smirk and down a couple painkillers with my vodka. "At least I'm not lookin' into time-shares in Florida."

"Oh!" A few others crack up.

"You sayin' I am?" Pop cocks a brow.

"We're saying _Mom_ is," Alec laughs, to which I nod and point in agreement. "Soon you'll replace Twilight for boccia tournaments and bingo nights."

"That's why Junior here was always my favorite son," Dad says, fucking with my brother, and pats his pockets, presumably to find his cigar. "And what the fuck is wrong with boccia?!" At that, _everyone_ laughs. "And you know, in the old country, we call it _bocce_."

"Before this turns into a lecture about the old country, I'd like to speak to Anthony and Mario in private," Felix announces.

Anthony quickly looks to me, nervousness flashing across his features, but I shake my head, saying it's all cool. In fact, he's about to earn praise from the boss for what he did at the Dunes. Because of his bravery, he's on the fast-track on becoming a made man. Even Mario's about to climb in the ranks.

"Let's go to my office, boys." Felix takes the lead, Anthony and Mario following while fidgeting with their ties.

So fucking cute.

It can take years to get your button—or you can find yourself in the middle of a shitstorm and end up on top, like my oldest son has done. In a short period of time, he's proved he's good with money, he's innovative, and he's got balls.

"He's so smart, that boy of yours," Dad comments with pride.

I nod, definitely agreeing, and take a swig from my drink.

"I hear he's serious about his girl, too," Riley says, arching a brow.

"He is," I confirm. Won't be long now before he pops the question. "He's just like his daddy." I grin. After all, I made sure to make Isabella mine fast as hell. While I couldn't marry her right away, I knocked her up within a few months.

"God bless our beautiful Bella." Dad nods. "How she puts up with ya…"

I chuckle and then get quiet, 'cause sometimes I wonder, too. I'm a lucky son of a bitch. I coulda ended up like Alec, with a wife he doesn't love and mistresses. Not that I think he's suffering, but there's no way he can be as happy as I am. Then again, you can't miss what you've never had. I can be destroyed in ways Alec can't—he's got less to lose.

"She had practice before she met you, Zio," Nico says with a wry smirk. "I was always her favorite hell-raiser."

I snort, remembering that. "Don't forget to visit her before you go back to Kansas City," I tell him, wagging a finger. My wife's been talking about Nicola's son for weeks now. "She wans'ta see baby Michael when there's no crowd getting in her business. And bring your sister, too."

"I will." He nods. "Lucia and I are gonna go see Dad tomorrow—we can stop by after that."

"_Bene_. How is Jasper?" I know he was denied bail, considered a flight risk, and I know the trial has begun, 'cause Dad keeps us posted, but we've been advised to stay away. We're not involved, and we don't wanna add proof of how close we are by lining up to visit him in jail.

"It is what it is." Nico sighs. "Whattaya gonna do?"

Nothing, that's what. Dad and Joseph have tried.

Jasper's biggest problem is that he's been in prison before. This is the third time he'll do a bid—the second time in Nevada.

"I'm actually gonna talk to Felix about coming back to Vegas," Nico admits.

Huh. Well, I can see why he'd want that. Lucia's staying in LA, but Nico was always closer to Alice than Lucia was. They're all close, make no mistake, but Lucia's a daddy's girl—and an Auntie Bella devotee. But Nico loves Alice, calls her Mom, and with Jasper in prison soon, I suppose Nicola will want to take care of Alice, the baby she's pregnant with, and Sophia.

"I doubt he'll deny you," I say with a shrug. He'll just send someone else to Kansas City. Maybe if Alice wasn't Felix's baby sister, he wouldn't give a fuck, but he'll want Alice taken care of.

"You think I'll be with you again?" he asks, avoiding the word crew. Only Felix's office is completely safe. Granted, we sweep the whole place, but with so much people moving around in the club area, we're careful out here.

"No," I answer, shaking my head. "Someone's gotta take on Dawn, and if you're coming back, it's the logical choice." Pops nods at that. "You'll probably fill your father's shoes." I take another swig of my drink and add, "You're twenty-three years old now—you're more than ready. What you've done in Missouri and with Anthony speaks for itself." Besides, we need some new blood around here.

I wouldn't say I'm slowing down, but I'm at that point where I don't want to run around anymore. I want to focus on the poker games that I host, the shit I run through _Stella_, and being there for Felix until someone else is ready to step up—which, now that I think of it, will likely be Nicola. One day. Hopefully soon. He'll make a good underboss.

He's young, but he proves himself every day, and truth be told, with the size of our small family, we don't have many options. Sure, we have a lot of low-men running around doing our bidding, but Felix doesn't trust easily. The inner circle isn't just small—it's tiny.

Just months ago, it was impossible to see how the future would pan out. But now? It's getting clearer.

I see Felix taking Anthony under his wing, I see my dad teaching Joseph the ropes of being the _consigliere_, I see Nicola taking over for Jasper and climbing up so I can step down, and I see some other _cugines_ like Tommy—Alice's driver—and Mario flanking our sons.

I was born to be a wiseguy; I take pride in it. For my wife, I will make a conscious effort to push Dominic in another direction, but the gangster in me wants him to fill my own shoes. I can't deny that. I can picture him at _Stella_ one day, perhaps running a small crew, and making more paper than a rainforest.

For generations, the Maisanos and the Coluccis have built this organization, and it's not big—not at all—but it's strong. The money that flows in and out of this town…it's indescribable, and with the Gaming Commission running the last fuckers of the Outfit back to Chicago where they belong, we own Vegas. Completely.

Speaking of… I lean closer to my father. "Any word from Chicago?"

"It's all good." Pop takes a puff from his cigar. "With our friends out East, we's got nothin'a worry about."

I figured it was like that. Only a fool would start a war if the opponent has New York on their side. And say what you want about the Outfit, but the boss ain't dumb.

"EJ's buddy, though?" I arch a brow, referring to the motherfucker who shot my son.

"Not from Chicago," he says quietly, and I barely hear him over the loud club music. "Joseph found out who he was—" He waves a hand. "Some street-corner hustler from Reno."

Glad to hear it. It means it's really over.

~oOo~

"Look at'chu, _tesoro_," I chuckle, eyeing my son as he drives me home. Reaching over, I pinch his cheek. "You can't stop smiling."

He shrugs, that silly grin still on his face. "What—it's been a good night. Am I not allowed to be happy?"

"Of course you are." I chuckle. "You gonna stay at the Sindones tonight, too?"

He's been staying there since Enzo died, unless he was at the hospital with Isabella.

"Yeah, Gabriella's expecting me." He nods.

"Oh, I bet she is," I mutter under my breath.

He cups his ear. "What was that?"

"I said I bet she is!" I shout.

"Mother of Christ!" He flinches and rubs his ear. "Why you gotta be so loud?"

"'Cause you're obviously deaf," I shoot back, watching as my house comes into view at the end of the street. "You go work on giving me grandbabies, and I'll try to get in your mom's—"

"I don't wanna know!"

I cock a brow. "Good graces, son. Good graces."

"Oh…"

I snort a laugh. "Yeah." He pulls over close to the front door, and I see Sal as I open the car door. Anthony offers to help me, but I wave that shit off. Contrary to popular belief, I'm not a fucking cripple. "Bring Gabriella over for dinner tomorrow," I tell my son. "When's Carm leaving for Philly?"

"In the morning," he says. "But Gabriella and I were planning to chill out at her house tomorrow—"

"See ya's for dinner, baby." I close the door and walk up the steps toward the front porch, then nod in hello to Sal who's smoking a cigarette. "I think you can go home, Sal."

Hopefully, we won't need the extra protection anymore.

"All right, boss." He nods and starts to walk toward his own car. "Call me if you need anything."

When I enter the house, it's peaceful and dark. But not without sign of life. Duke and Duchess meet me in the foyer, and in the kitchen, I find a pajama-dressed Elisa rummaging through the fridge.

"_La mia mocciosa preferita_," I say with a small smile. She looks up, closes the fridge, and opens a can of soda. "Is Mom awake?"

She nods and sits down at the counter. "She's in the backyard." She bites her lip, hesitating to speak. So, I walk over, lean the damn cane against another stool, sit down across from her, and unbutton my suit jacket while she…does whatever. "I'm sorry I was disrespectful earlier," she finally says.

I nod. "Thank you, _angioletto_. Does that mean you don't think I'm a jerk?"

Her cheeks flush. "No, you definitely are, but I shouldn't give you crap. Mom says you can't help it."

"Oh, she said that?" I scoff. "She must really love me."

"_Dad_." She rolls her eyes. "She also said I gotta listen to you, 'cause you have the best intentions—or whatever." She waves a hand. "Look, I know I can behave like a spoiled brat, but you're not making it easy for me. While Anthony and Dee are allowed to do whatever they want, Julia and I gotta be all angelic and perfect."

"You're my babies," I argue, getting rid of my tie. "You're too young to date." She opens her mouth to speak, but I hold up a hand. "I'm gonna be honest with you, sweetheart. You already know a little about what I do for a living—yeah?" She nods hesitantly. I nod, too. "Then trust me when I say that you don't wanna meet a guy in my business." I shake my head, knowing it's all hypocritical, but it is what it is. I know my sons will do right by their girls, because it's how Isabella and I raised them, but I can't fucking speak for others.

She grimaces. "But Mario's really sweet. I like him."

"You don't _know_ him," I point out, keeping my temper in check. "And to you, yeah, he's all sweet and charming—until you're outta sight and he's getting stripper dust all over."

"Ouch." Her lip trembles, and I feel like I've been punched in the gut. But this is still shit she needs to know. She can't think everyone in his world is good and genuine just 'cause they smile at her. "Is that how you are with Mom?"

"No," I say honestly. "But your mother is a witch. She put a spell on me, so I can only see her."

She presses her lips together to hide her smile. "That's not funny."

"Sometimes I think it's true, though." My mouth quirks up. "Listen to me, baby." I reach over the kitchen island and grasp her hands in mine. "I'm not saying all the guys I know cheat on their women—far from it, but I don't like the odds when it concerns you. You'd be better off going to college—in Nevada," I'm quick to add, 'cause she ain't moving cross-country like some others, "and find some golden boy there."

"What if Mom had done the same?" She arches a brow.

"I would've chased her," I say bluntly.

"What if Mario chases _me_?" she counters.

I grit my teeth.

_This is why Isabella handles the girls._

Eventually, I say, "Time will tell. Until then? No. You're not allowed to date him. End'a discussion."

From now on, I will keep an extra eye on that Mario kid. One single fucking lap dance from a stripper, and he can forget about my angel.

"I'm gonna go to bed," she mumbles.

When she passes me, I see that her eyes are welling up with tears, so I wrap my fingers around her wrist and pull her to me. "Don't do that to me," I tell her. "I only want what's best for you." Hugging her hard, I kiss her hair and add, "I know I treat you and your sister differently from your brothers, but it's not a bad thing." I cup her cheeks and make her look at me. "I'm more protective of you and Julia. There's shit in this world I wanna shield you from. Is that so horrible?"

"I wanna make my own mistakes, Daddy." She sniffles.

"And I won't let you, 'cause seeing you in tears breaks my fucking heart."

She huffs and wipes at her cheeks. "You mean you'd rather be the reason I cry."

"Yes." Hell to the motherfucking yes, as someone her age would say. A _guy_ her age. Not a girl. "We's family. You gotta love me." I smile carefully.

"Right now I wish I didn't," she grumbles.

"But you do—I'll choose to focus on that." I hug her again and kiss her on the forehead. "You already look so much like your mother. One day you'll make some bastard very lucky. And it's my job to make sure he's good enough for you. But for now—" I grip her chin "—please do me a favor and focus on school and friends instead of boys. All right? You've got all the time in the world for that later."

"Fine," she mumbles. "I'm gonna go to bed."

"Okay." I let her go. "I love you."

"Love you, too."

Heaving a heavy sigh, I watch her disappear. I shrug outta my jacket and hang it over a stool. Then I walk toward the living room and the patio, unbuttoning my shirt as I go, and I see Isabella sitting in one of the loungers right outside.

The backyard is only lit up by the pool and a couple candles on the small table next to Isabella.

My leg hurts, but I'm too tired to give a fuck. Opening the French doors, I join her and feel the day washing away, like a weight coming off my shoulders.

"Hey," she says softly, making room for me. That relieves me—such a small thing. But yesterday, she woulda made me take my own lounger instead. "Long night?"

"Long day." I lie down with my good leg touching her and bring her down with me. "_Mi sei mancata_."

"You were only gone for a few hours." She tilts up her face and kisses my chin. "But I get what you mean—I've missed you, too." She hums, resting her head on my chest. "I was eavesdropping, by the way. I heard what you and Elisa talked about."

My chest rumbles with a sleepy chuckle. "Do you agree or disagree?"

"I see both your points," she whispers. "You want some wine? There's cake, too."

I shake my head no. "Are we okay?" That's really all I need to know. Whatever the world looks like, I need to know that whenever I come home, my wife is the same—that we're solid, that nothing changes between us.

"Yeah," she sighs. Lifting her head, she looks to me. "I've decided to focus on the fact that we're all okay. We're alive, and we have each other." She brushes her fingertips over my mouth, to which I kiss them. "When I think too much about what happened, I get angry. I'll try not to, but…"

"I'll practice patience," I promise, knowing her disappointment's not gonna go away overnight. "And I'll be more honest."

She smiles ruefully. "I only demand it when it's about our kids' lives, _ciccino_. I trust you to do what's best for our family, but you gotta let me in when it comes to Dominic. It's already too late for Anthony."

That's a promise I can keep. "I swear." I grab her hand and kiss her fingers again. "Have you spoken to Dominic?"

She snorts. "That little shit. I grounded him—told him you're gonna talk to him. He thanks you for throwing him under the bus. Oh, and he called you a rat."

I can't help but laugh. "I'll deal with it tomorrow. And I think I can live with ratting out a twelve-year-old." She makes another humming noise, and I squeeze her to me, shifting us so we're on our sides. "_Bell'uccellino_." I brush a kiss on her nose. "_Ti amo_."

"I love you, too." She smiles. "I kinda feel like celebrating now."

That shit sounds promising. My cock definitely takes notice. "Is there an anniversary I've forgotten?" I grin.

"Hmm, no. But…" She slides her hand underneath my open shirt, "I don't need an anniversary to celebrate our marriage." _Fuck me_. "So…whattaya say we move this into the bedroom?"

"I say fuck yeah." I nuzzle her neck, my hand finding her ass. "We could bring the cake, too."

"Oh, Juniuh." She laughs.

"Oh, hummingbird," I mimic and chase her inside.

Which looks fucking ridiculous when I can barely walk.


	28. Vendetta Epilogue

**Special thanks to Lisa, Lexi, and Francesca!**

**Time jump: 5-ish years. **

**(This is the second update today, so make sure you didn't miss the previous chapter.)**

* * *

**Grand Vendetta**

**Epilogue**

**Translation:**

_Non credo proprio = _I don't think so.

**January 1****st**** 1999**

**Junior's POV**

Groaning and yawning, I stretch out on the bed and blindly reach for Isabella, but I don't fucking find her. Then as I listen, I hear her in the kitchen. _Fuck_. So much for sleeping in on New Year's Day. Or…never mind—I check the alarm clock on my nightstand and see that it's eleven already.

With another groan, I get outta bed and massage the kinks in my neck, wondering if the wife can gimme a real backrub later. 'Cause it's a fucking wonder—she's still limber and alert and always so fucking refreshed, yet I feel every year that's added. I'm only forty-six, but in the mornings I feel like sixty-six.

After pulling on a pair of sweatpants and my robe, I pad into the bathroom, take a piss, splash some water on my face, and decide I can shower and shave later. This is just supposed to be a lazy day, anyway.

As has become normal, the house is fairly quiet when I leave the bedroom. Anthony has his own house the next street over, Dominic recently bought the apartment above _Stella_, and Elisa hasn't moved back from Henderson where she graduated from college last spring. But the girl better move back into town soon. Sure, my parents love having her out there, but it means I only get to see her some weekends.

The only one left is Julia. She has the entire second floor to herself—when we don't have guests from outta town. Anthony's room is now Isabella's room of worship—to our kids. It's where all trophies, diplomas, photo albums, knick-knacks, home videos, stuffed animals, baby clothes, first shoes, and report cards are gathered on shelves, in boxes, and on the walls. Dominic's and Elisa's rooms are guest rooms specially furnished for kids, which means we still have the guest room down here, and Julia's room is obviously the same—as is the rec room. Only, posters of ponies and puppies in Julia's room have been exchanged for…what was it? *NSync? Something-or-the-other, and the music is fucking awful.

Don't tell her that, though. She'll go on and on about how original they are, how they write all their songs, and how they'll be together forever.

Scratching my chest lazily, I make my way to the kitchen where it smells fucking delicious. The radio is on in the kitchen window, and my wife is definitely baking. With TJ. Which would explain why the kitchen looks like a war zone.

"Mornin', love," I yawn, plopping down on a stool at the kitchen island.

"Good morning, _ciccino_!" The wife might be high. No one should be this happy after consuming two bottles of wine the night before. And a handful of Long Island Iced Teas.

"Nonno! No-no-no-no-no-no—Nonnnnoo!" TJ runs to me, wearing only a diaper, and holds out his arms as if he's an airplane.

I chuckle tiredly as he rams into my leg, then I pick him up, but this kid can't sit still. "Watch the balls!" I wince and steady him on my lap. "Gimme a smooch." I pucker my lips, and he fuckin' slobbers all over me. "Yeah, we're gonna hafta work on that, baby."

"Here you go." Isabella sets a cup of coffee, the paper, and my reading glasses in front of me. "Please use them?" She kisses my cheek before returning to the oven.

"Doubtful," I grumble and ignore the damn glasses.

"Nonna say," TJ giggles, holding up my glasses to me. And he gets them all greasy with his chubby hands. "Hea'."

"_Non credo proprio_." I grin and shake my head. "I don't take orders from a two-year-old."

"You'll take orders from me," Isabella says cheekily.

I smirk. "Who died and made you boss?" After taking a sip of my coffee, I ask, "How long are we gonna watch this little shit?" I ruffle TJ's dark hair.

I fucking adore our grandkids, but Isabella would have them here always if she could, and I have this problem where I can't say no to them. Well, Allegra is only four months old, so she's too young to beg me for stuff, but TJ? One look into his dark brown eyes and you're done. He looks just like Anthony did when he was little, but TJ's got his mama's coloring and her eyes.

Christ, when he was born… They announced his name—Anthony Junior—but the second someone referred to him as AJ, my nephew—Alec's son—perked up. And we couldn't have two AJs. So, after a lotta going back and forth, Isabella said TJ. Even thought Anthony's never been a Tony.

_Close enough._

"Only a few hours," Isabella answers. "Anthony wanted to give Gabriella a day's rest, so he's watching Allegra, and he asked if we could watch TJ. I picked him up a couple hours ago."

"Anthony's with Allegra all by himself?" I arch a brow, both amused and concerned. Make no mistake, my son is proving to be an amazing dad, but he's scared shitless of Allegra's "girly bits." He says it's wrong to change her diaper and give her baths. Seriously, he freaks the fuck out.

We've had plenty of laughs about that, but then again, I can't really relate. I've never changed a diaper in my entire life, so what the fuck do I know? Wait. I think I've done it once or twice, actually—under my wife's supervision—and it was with Anthony or Dominic. Don't really remember.

"Oh, don't worry, honey." Isabella giggles and pulls out a tray of cupcakes from the oven. "I sent Julia over thea' to keep him company."

"Nonna, I'm hungwry!" TJ rubs his belly.

"They're still too hot, sweetheart, and I haven't put frosting on them yet," Isabella reasons in her nonna voice. I didn't know it existed until TJ learned to speak. "How about some yogurt and a sandwich first?"

Like that's as fun as chocolate cupcakes.

But TJ takes after Anthony there—they're both crazy about sandwiches.

"Any leftovers from yesterday?" I ask. We had a big New Year's Eve party at _Stella_, and Isabella knows I love dinner leftovers more than eggs and bacon.

"Yeah, I brought home plenty," she replies, half hidden behind the fridge door. "You go watch your shows, Juniuh. I'll bring the food in."

"Whattaya say, baby—" I stand up with TJ on my hip "—you wanna watch the Discovery Channel with Nonno?" _Madonn'_, I love that channel. I've taped _The FBI Files_ episode I missed last week, and then there're _Shark Week _reruns.

"Wiv'e amimals?" he asks.

I nod. "Yeah, with the animals." _And forensic science._

Toddlers dig that shit, don't they?

"Yeah, otay." He shrugs.

"That's the spirit." I snort and walk over to Isabella, needing a little something first. "Gimme some'a that." I grab her jaw and kiss her on the lips. "Mmm, love you."

She grins. "Love you more, _ciccino_. Don't forget your glasses."

I forget the glasses. But not my coffee.

TJ and I settle on the couch in the living room, but fifteen minutes into the program, he falls asleep, all sprawled out.

I'm good with that. I get to eat my breakfast in peace and quiet, watch my show, and look forward to the cupcakes coming my way soon.

A while later, Isabella tells me she needs to run to the store real quick to buy almonds and dark chocolate, so that leaves me all alone in a big house. With a sleeping child.

It's like…I mean, this never happens. There's always someone home.

I don't know if I love it or hate it.

But no matta'. When someone rings the doorbell about twenty minutes into a documentary about sharks off the coast South Africa, the silence is over. No need to ponder.

Leaving TJ sleeping on the couch, with his thumb in his mouth, I head to the foyer, not giving a rat's ass about how I look in my sweats, messy hair, and robe, and open the door.

_What. The. Fuck?_

It's a fucking baby. In one of those bucket-seat-thingys.

I frown.

Looking up, I try to see if there's someone around, maybe someone in the bushes who wants to prank me, but it's empty and quiet.

"Um…" I don't…I mean, what the _fuck_?

I squat down and look at the baby; I think it's a girl. She can't be many months older than Allegra, and there's only purple and pink, so that oughta give away the gender. Still frowning, I reach out one hand with caution—_like it's a shark on the Discovery Channel ready to bite_—and find a note attached to a small stuffed animal.

There's only one line written on the note, but it's enough to squeeze all the air outta my lungs.

_Her name is Lia. She belongs to Dominic Maisano. She's his problem now._

* * *

**The End of Grand Vendetta**

* * *

**Grand Finale, the last story in the series, will begin next week. The first chapter is already on its way to pre-readers and beta. Same story alert—just next chapter. **


	29. Finale 1

**Time to start off Grand Finale! Here's chapter one, and you can find the character sheet on my WordPress—link on my profile.**

**This story will be mainly in EPOV, BPOV, and Dominic's POV, but we'll get some Anthony in here, too ;) **

**Special thanks to Lisa, Lexi, and Francesca!**

**First we'll see how an 18-yr old Dominic's doing, and this is the same day as the Vendetta epilogue. **

* * *

**Grand Finale**

**Chapter 1**

**Translation:**

_Mi fa girare le palle_ = It's getting on my nerves.

_Come te la passi, bello? = _How you doin', boy?

_Siete davvero dei puttanieri = _You really are whores.

**January 1****st**** 1999**

**Dominic's POV**

Once I'm done in the bathroom, I return to the bedroom, making sure I don't step on any used condoms, and reach for my jeans that were thrown over a lamp last night.

I ignore the two snoring broads in the bed.

_Why are they always perfect tens when you're shitfaced?_

Now they're barely sevens.

Shaking my head, I grab my black hoodie from the floor and put it on. My leather jacket follows, and I stick my feet into my construction boots. I check to make sure I have my wallet, my nine, my smokes, my keys, and my phone. Which…seems to be dead. It's also sticky—oh, _cazzo_. I think I remember now. My brother was calling me last night, but I was busy with Blondie One and Blondie Two, so I threw it in a glass of rum and Coke. Fuckin' A…

Now I can't play Snake until I've replaced it.

"Dominic…? Come back to bed."

I wince and turn toward the bed. "I'm just gonna go out to buy breakfast." Walking over to the sleeping broad's side of the bed, I bend over the nightstand and do the last line of coke on the broken mirror. "I'll—fuck." I sniff and swallow. "I'll be back soon."

"Mmm, a gentleman…" Blondie One goes back to sleep. "Hurry up."

"Right." I head to the door, energized and alert, and leave the motel room. As agreed upon, Frankie's waiting for me outside. He must've waited a while, though, 'cause I said I'd be out by noon, and it's almost one now. "'Sup?" We bump fists then get in his car. "Let's roll."

To our parents, he's still the sweet Francis who had a crush on Elisa, a crush that Felix and my pop will deny 'til they're blue in the faces. But whatever, they're also the only ones who get away with calling him by his given name these days. Everyone else calls him Frankie—or Frankie Bat when people can't place him in a sea of Frankies.

Two years ago, he got beaten with a bat and ended up in the hospital for three weeks. Then, when he got out, he tracked down his four attackers one by one and it was their turn to go to the hospital. One of them is in a persistent coma, another one had his asshole torn up by a bat, one is in a wheelchair, and another is dead.

Felix had some cleaning up to do for his son's sake, but it's all good now.

"You look like shit." He smirks.

"Good enough to bag two strippers from Dawn." I raise a brow. "But what the fuck happened to you last night?" After the big dinner at _Stella_, most of us took off in different directions. My parents went home, so did Anthony, my sister-in-law, and their kids…Elisa went to Mario's place… And Frankie was supposed to join me at Dawn, but he never showed. "The place was fucking packed." I let out a low whistle. "You shoulda seen Nicola," I laugh. My cousin was _buried_ in chicks last night.

"I was with Case," he admits.

"Ah." I nod and drum my fingers on my thighs. "Well, at least you got laid, right?" I roll down the window and pull out my smokes. "Did'ju bring the bats?" Stupid question.

"Yeah. In the back." He makes a turn; we're only a couple blocks away from the day's first gig.

I light up a smoke and take a deep pull from it, my knee bouncing in anticipation. And the fucking blow…_Madonn'_. I should probably slow down before I take it too far. "Shit." I scratch my nose. "When was the last time I slept?" I honestly can't remember. For some reason, that makes me laugh.

Frankie side-eyes me but says nothing.

He used to be Anthony's best friend, but over the years they drifted apart. Mainly 'cause Anthony's always busy—either with work or with his wife and kids. He's become a family man. In every aspect.

A made man, married, a father…

Now Frankie is probably _my_ closest friend, not counting my big sister.

"Here we go," he says quietly.

Reaching behind me, I grab one of the bats—Frankie grabs the other—and then we leave the car, walking briskly toward the little convenience store on the corner. The fuckin' Turk who owns it is out on thin ice. Wafer-thin.

With my smoke dangling between my lips, I swing the bat in circles at my side a few times; then as I get to the glass door, I pull back before I hit a home run-worthy shot. The glass shatters, tiny pieces flying all over the place.

I take my smoke and walk inside, flicking some ash on the floor. "Yo! Somebody home?!"

"Maybe he don't speak English," Frankie chuckles.

"Could be." I nod, returning the smoke to my lips, and then we start swinging again.

Shelves upon shelves with goods hit the floor, everything breaking to pieces.

"Please!" I hear someone cry behind the counter.

Smirking, I walk over. I drop the bat for now and grab my nine instead. Frankie keeps trashing the place. "There you are." The little fuck is shielding his head, squatting down on the floor. "You know, I have nothing against playing peek-a-boo, but I prefer to do it with my two-year-old nephew," I tell him.

"I'll do anything!" He cautiously stands up, showing me his palms.

_Why do they only play the "anything" card when a gun is involved? _

I grin lazily. "Well, I do appreciate cooperation." I scratch my eyebrow with the barrel of my nine. "Too bad it didn't come sooner, huh?" My smile fades. "Nicola Savona sends his regards—says thank you for the payments."

"Business' been slow," he says, pleading with me to understand and give a fuck. "I'll get him the money!"

"Oh, you'll do more than that." I round the counter and tell him to open the cash register, which he does. "Thank you. Now, here's what you're gonna do." I take a drag from my smoke, then continue as I rob him of cash. "You know the booze you sell without a license and the smuggled cigarettes?" He nods hesitantly. "From now on, you won't buy that from your little dealer in Reno. You'll go to _Stella Mia_—you know the restaurant?—and you'll ask for Edward Maisano. Tell him Dominic sent you. We clear?"

My brother used to be the one who supplied _Stella_ and several other restaurants with alcohol by hijacking trucks outside'a town. But that's my job now since Anthony has bigger things going on. So, the booze thing is really mine, but I don't have a fucking office. Instead I send them to Dad since _he_ sits at _Stella_. Then he'll come to me with the orders.

"Y-yes," he stutters. He's a short little thing, so at my six foot two, I tower over him. "I go to Edward Maisano. I-I understand."

"Excellent." I pocket the cash and go to the other side again. "And you can drop the two Gs you owe Nicola at Dawn—plus twenty percent interest." With Frankie covering me, I pick up my bat and start walking toward the exit. "You have one week," I call over my shoulder, and I offer a one-fingered salute before exiting.

Frankie's quick to follow. "You're fucking cold, bro," he laughs.

I shrug and flick away my smoke. "What's next on the list?" Despite that Frankie can't ever get his button, what with him being half-German and all, that don't mean he lives like a saint. He makes some decent money doing small jobs for Nicola and Zio Alec.

That's what I do, too—partly. My pops is also teaching me the ropes when he hosts his high-stake poker games every week, and the plan is for me to one day take over the restaurant he opened for Mom.

The only thing Anthony has at _Stella_ these days is doing the books. He's good with numbers—I'm not. But other than that, he's now the owner of his own company. It was a couple years ago he started a construction business, and everyone with a brain knows that's always a rewarding venture in Nevada. It seems with each hotel that is added on the Strip, there's a handful of housing projects popping up to make the city bigger. So, he hires cheap labor—that he often pay under the table—gets his hands on stolen equipment, and finds dirt on others in the business, which leads to blackmail, which leads to other shit _they_ steal as payment. Everything from tools and lumber to contracts and use of usually-expensive project managers.

Frankie may call me cold, but I ain't got shit on my brother. Christ—I remember laughing so hard—Anthony once had one of his boys force a successful construction business owner, who was a closet fag, fuck some twink from a gay club, and there's photos to prove it happened. With the photos in hand, Anthony milked this other cat for all he was worth. It was either that, or my brother would send the photos to the dude's wife.

~oOo~

Hours later, I find myself at Twilight. I'm furious as _fuck_, and I need a word with Felix.

I spoke to Nico first, and he cleared it with Felix—said it was okay I stopped at Twilight, that Felix had time to see me.

"Oh, Dominic!" Some naked broad hurries toward me. "What happened to you?"

"Go shake that ass and be useful instead," I snap, walking down the hall to Felix's office. I cup my jaw, flex it, and cringe at the pain. "Fuck."

It was supposed to be easy. I had a deal with an owner of a trucking company, and Frankie and I knew the exact truck to stop outside city limits. It was a literal truckload of booze on its way to the Bellagio, the new casino that opened last year where the Dunes used to stand. Anyway, when we got the truck to pull over and we drew our guns on him, another car pulled up. Motherfucking wannabe gangsters from Reno.

We luckily secured the cargo in our two vans, but not before I got pistol-whipped in the fucking jaw.

Frankie is on his way to our warehouse to hide the booze, and I'm here, ready to whine like a bitch.

Knocking on the door and announcing my name, I wait for Felix to let me in. Which he does; only, it's my nonno, and that doesn't surprise me.

"What the hell happened to you?" He frowns in concern and opens the door wider. "Come in."

I slump down in the chair next to Nonno's, and I pull out my smokes and the bandit beanie from the back pocket of my jeans. "We gotta do something about whatever's happening in Reno," I say, lighting up a smoke. "More and more, I hear about people—here in town—striking deals with some—" I gesture with my hands, not even knowing what to call it. Group of thugs? What-the-fuck-ever. _Mi fa girare le palle_.

"Did anyone get a look at your face?" Felix tents his fingers on the desk and jerks his chin at the beanie I used today.

I shake my head no. "We got the upper hand before it could happen." While many truckers just wanna get on with their lives—too afraid to press charges—we cover our faces, 'cause it's the smartest. Obviously. I blow out a breath, trying to calm down. I already know I haven't shown the respect I should. Fuck. My dad would have my ass. "I apologize." I place a hand on my chest. "Thank you for seeing me on such short notice."

His mouth quirks up, and I hear Nonno chuckling next to me.

"That's all right, kid," Felix says, inclining his head. "You're not the first one to come to me about Reno. Alec's boys have encountered them, too." I'm aware. "I'm gonna sit down with Junior, Alec, and Nico soon."

I almost ask about Zio Riley, but then I remember he just moved to Kansas City with Zia Brianna, Colin, and Olivia.

"I assume you didn't see their faces, either?" He arches a brow.

"No, sir." I grit my teeth, which hurts. I'd been close to ripping that fucking mask off one of the idiots, but, well, I got pistol-whipped instead. "I'd like to help," I say quickly, "when we find out who they are, I mean."

I'm ready to do more.

Felix and Nonno exchange a look, then Felix just says, "I'll think about it." So, I know he's gonna talk to my dad first.

Felix may run all this, but he values Dad's opinion from time to time, especially if me or Anthony are involved.

Just a couple minutes later, I'm dismissed, and I promise to drive to my parents' house—apparently they're trying to reach me.

~oOo~

"Mom!" I yell, entering the house. "Dad!" Duchess runs over to me first, followed by an old Duke. I don't think he's got many years left. "_Come te la passi, bello?_" I scratch him behind his ears, then walk farther into the house and peer into the kitchen. Empty. "Yo, Mom! Dad!"

"Upstairs, _topolino_!" Mom whisper-shouts.

After shrugging outta my leather jacket, I jog up the stairs and Dad meets me on the landing.

"What's up?" I ask, thinking he looks weird. I don't know—just something in his eyes. "Felix and Nonno said youse were tryin'a reach me."

"Uh, yeah." He clears his throat and runs a hand through his hair. "So, do you remember what I always say—use a glove or you'll have eighteen years of baby love?"

My eyebrows shoot up, and I nod slowly, my brows then knitting together. I mean, what the fuck is he talking about?

"_Bene_. So, you're not deaf—glad to have that cleared up." He cups my neck, guiding me down to the guest room that used to be my bedroom. Now it's all pink and frilly, full of shit for Allegra, while Elisa's old room is themed for boys. "What the fuck happened to your face, by the way?" He grabs my jaw and tilts my face, inspecting it, which fucking hurts.

"I'll tell you later." I move my head away and rub my jaw. I can sense a big bruise slowly forming. The skin there is tender and hotter.

"All right." His brows furrow in concern, but then he gets over it. For now. And we keep moving. "We had somethin' delivered to our doorstep earlier." He stops us in the doorway, and I see Mom standing over by the crib, looking like she's been crying. The light's dimmed pretty low, though, so I can't be sure.

"Um." I frown. "Not to be a dick or anythin', but what's the emergency?"

"Oh, Dominic." Mom sighs and wipes at her cheeks. "C'mea." She waves me forward. "I am so mad at'chu right now, but I think a dose of reality will kick your ass more than I ever could."

_What the hell? What'd I do now?_

Walking over, I see Allegra in the crib—no. No. "Who the fuck is that?" I jerk my chin at the sleeping baby. Unless my niece grew that much overnight, it's not Allegra.

"Her name is Lia." She hands me a note.

I look down at it and read.

_Her name is Lia. She belongs to Dominic Maisano. She's his problem now._

"What…" My stomach knots up and I instinctively take a step back. "No." I shake my head, dread washing over me.

_There's no way._

"This was delivered a couple hours later." Dad comes up next to me and hands me an envelope. "It's her birth certificate."

"I…" I feel like throwing up.

When I look over my shoulder, toward the door, Dad's hand returns to my neck. "Don't do anything you'll regret later, baby," he whispers, but I don't think I'll regret bolting. "Joseph's working on it. He's not exactly in family law, but he's making calls for you. We'll get a paternity test and—"

"That's not mine." I point.

Mom sucks her teeth. "It's a fucking she, Dominic. Not an it or that."

"I use protection," I grit out, my hands balling into fists. "_She_ is not mine."

"Come on." Dad ushers me out again, and I'm more than willing to get the fuck outta here. I can feel I'm all pale in the face, and I'm breaking out in a cold sweat. As we walk down the stairs, I get dizzy, too.

We end up in the living room, and Dad sits down next to me on the middle couch.

"You ever heard the name Andrea Martinez?"

I shrug my shoulders and stare at nothing in front of me.

"It's the mother's name stated on the birth certificate."

"She can't be mine, Dad." I shake my head, wrapping my arms around my middle. "I just…it can't be…" I suck in a breath. "I'm not Anthony." I'm not saying I don't ever wanna have kids; it's always been there as an inevitable future. But I've never fucking thought about it. I'm only eighteen.

"He thinks you'll do great," Dad says. "But I'm not sure if he was being sarcastic."

"He knows?" I ask dully.

"We were watching TJ."

"She can't be mine," I repeat.

"If she is, you're gonna take your responsibility."

"What—put her up for adoption?" I mutter.

"Say something like that again and I'll punch you in the fucking face," Dad warns quietly. "I swear to Christ, Dominic. Wise up."

I nod and drop my face into my hands. This can't be happening. This can't be happening. What the fuck do I know about kids? It's one thing to visit my brother's house and hold Allegra for five minutes or goof around with TJ, but to be responsible for one of those? _Jesus_.

"Lemme look at'chu." Dad grabs my jaw, and I force my eyes open. His face hardens. "You gotta lay off the yak," he whispers. "This ain't the first time I've seen you like this. You're wanna break your mother's heart?"

I break away from him and palm my face again, feeling like I could sleep through next week. "I'm fine." It's not like I'm outta control. It's just easier when I got so much to do. Sleep cuts in to my work hours. "And I've already broken her heart, remember?" I snort and scrub at my face.

"At least my conscience is clear there," he snaps. "I pushed you toward going to college, didn't it? I fucking did, so don't you dare say otherwise."

If you call three conversations about going to Kaplan pushing, then yeah, he pushed me. Truthfully, he did warn me about his lifestyle, but it wasn't shit I didn't know already. After all, I got a scar from a bullet to prove just how _safe_ our life is.

"I think this is the first time I'll say thank God for DNA testing," Dad muses a few minutes later. "Joseph mentioned something about…CPR? No. That wasn't it. That's when you gotta breathe. PCR!" he shouts the last word. "That's the one—PCR. I don't know what it is."

I groan miserably and lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees. "This can't be happening," I croak. "I don't want a kid."

Dad smacks me upside the head. "Watch your mouth! That baby girl up there is fucking beautiful. If anything, I pity her—gotta be stuck wit'chu for the rest of her life." He scoffs.

_I'm feeling the love._

"Where's Mom?" I swallow the emotions welling up. "She's better at comforting."

~oOo~

A while later, Joseph comes over with a doctor we trust, and my brother gets here, too—but not to be supportive or anything. He and Dad think this is funny.

We're gathered in the kitchen, and the doc is taking my DNA, swabbing the inside of my cheek, when Mom comes downstairs with the baby, who's awake now.

All I notice is dark hair and the bluest eyes I've ever seen, then I look away.

"She's fucking cute," I hear my brother say.

"Isn't she?" My dad's all over that shit, too. "Look at those eyes."

"How old is she?" Anthony asks.

Mom answers. "According to the birth certificate, she's ten months."

Tuning them out, I listen to the doc instead—he says that he "knows a guy who knows a guy," and the results will be in my hands in a few days instead weeks. Joseph is next to speak, and he says something about doing a court-issued test later—if these results come back with me being the, um, dad.

"Okay, time to test the child," the doctor announces. Just then, Joseph's phone rings, so he excuses himself to take the call in Dad's office.

"I ain't never gettin' one of those," Dad swears, and he's referring to Joseph's cell phone.

"Oh, look at that smile!" Mom claps her hands. "_Mamma mia_, she's so precious. Yes, you are, baby girl. You're so precious." She makes the baby giggle and babble.

I squeeze my eyes shut, shoving aside every part of me that instinctively wants to look over.

"I'm gonna go call Gabriella," Anthony says.

"So much for Gabby's day off." Dad snickers.

When I cautiously open my eyes again, my father's holding the baby while the doc takes the DNA sample.

"Don't fucking choke her," he bitches.

"All done." The doc is quick to back off and stow away his samples.

"Lia wans'ta see _Shark Week_ reruns wid' me on the _Discovery Channel_ now." And Dad walks toward the doorway. "Say bye-bye." He waves her hand to Mom, who's all weepy now. "Bye-bye."

"Ba-ba!" the baby babbles.

"OH!" Dad shouts. "I taught her her first word! We need a fuckin' notary!" He points to Mom and the doctor. "Youse're my witnesses!" Due to his shouting, the kid starts to cry, which makes Dad cringe. "Aw, _cazzo_." He wears a sad face and starts ranting and fussing. "Don't cry—I can't handle it. Hummingbird, take her. Calm her down and then find me in the living room."

Mom chuckles and takes the baby. "She was probably just mimicking you, _ciccino_."

"She _wasn't_," Dad insists then taps his temple. "Nonno knows."

Nonno—that felt like a punch in the gut. To have a nonno, you gotta have a dad.

My parents are acting like it's a done deal, and I can't take it. Do they even know how many broads there are who wouldn't mind bagging a Maisano? Not to mention a Colucci or a Savona?

I _always_ use rubber.

When Joseph returns, he does so with Dad in tow—and someone please tell the guy to put some fucking clothes on. It's dinnertime and he's still in sweats and his damn robe.

"I have some news," Joseph says. "Given your history, Dominic—" he sends my mother an apologetic look "—I thought it was a safe bet to start looking at Dawn and Twilight."

"Okay!" Mom says loudly. "I think it's playtime upstairs for Lia before I start throwing punches." With a glare shot my way, she leaves the kitchen, and I hear her stomping up the stairs. "Fuckin' whores I'm raisin'. First Anthony, now that little shit…"

I clear my throat and avert my eyes, ignoring the heating of my cheeks. Had it not been for my mother's presence, I woulda been bumping fists now, but…

"What'd I do?" Anthony comes into the kitchen, widening his arms, maybe 'cause our mother just called us whores. "I'm innocent." He places a hand on his chest.

Dad snorts. "Before you were with Gabby? Yeah, as innocent as Capone. You know, I saw this documentary about him on the _Discovery_—"

"Can we move on hea'?" I ask impatiently and pinch the bridge of my nose. "I got shit to do." Basically get high and forget this day ever happened.

"Actually, I'm done here, so…" The doc looks uncomfortable. "I'll just see myself out."

He leaves.

"Right." Joseph walks closer to where I'm sitting at the kitchen island. "I got this faxed over—you said you didn't recall the name Andrea Martinez?" He slips a piece of paper in front of me, a photocopy. "Maybe you'll remember her now." I wish I didn't. I really wish I didn't. "She used to work at Dawn but quit around the time she got pregnant. Thankfully, Nico saves all those records."

I bite my thumbnail, for one second meeting my dad's gaze, and I'm grateful there's no sarcasm or judgment to be found right now.

"This don't narrow it down much," I point out. "She's probably fucked twice as many people as Anthony and I have combined."

"I'd prefer we leave my ass outta this," Anthony says wryly.

"Mom's right—_siete davvero dei puttanieri_," Dad mutters. "And I thought I was wild when I was young, always at Dawn."

Anthony smirks at him. "If you was at Dawn so much, how did you meet Mom, who you swear was an innocent angel?"

My brows knit together, as I have no fucking idea how this is relevant.

"I went to church, too!" Dad shouts. "Now, shut the fuck up—Joseph was talking."

"Let's try this again." Joseph sighs. "You remember being with her, Dee?"

I half-shrug, half-nod. As much as I'd love to deny it, I know I fucked the brunette in the photo. But it was a long time ago, so it's not like I can pinpoint it.

"Was it maybe ten plus nine months ago?" Dad asks.

I glare at him then scrub my hands over my face. "I don't fucking know," I groan. "But even if it was…? I mean, she gets around." They all do.

"Got," Joseph corrects. "She killed herself after she dropped off the baby here." My jaw drops. "Nico sent two boys to her place as soon as we'd figured out it was her."

"Well, she's not going the heaven—poor girl," Dad mutters.

Anthony snorts. "Preach, Pops."

"Can youse be serious for one fucking second?!" I shout, widening my arms.

"Oh!" Dad shouts back. He wags a finger at me. "You shut your mouth when you talk to me, son!"

_That makes no fucking sense!_

"And I thought my family was nuts," Joseph mutters. "You know what, Dee? You'll have the results in a few days. I'll be in touch."

He takes off as if he's being chased by the devil; meanwhile, I think I might cry. And Anthony and Dad are bitching, talking about what to eat for dinner since Mom hasn't started on it, and I have a splitting headache, I just wanna get the fuck outta here, and then Anthony announces he's gonna go get Gabriella and the kids, which leads to Dad saying we'll order food from _Stella_, and, and, and…I wanna scream.

Then Mom finally comes down again. "I just changed her diaper; she's good for now." She's got her coat on. "Anthony, you have a daughter—I trust that you can take care of Lia 'til I come back."

"I have _two_ daughters," Dad argues.

"Yes, but you're getting a little rusty, _ciccino_. No offense, but last time we babysat Allegra, you thought it'd be cool to throw her in the pool to see if she'd sink or float."

"DAD!" Anthony looks honestly horrified.

"I was kidding!" Dad yells, throwing his hands up. "It was a joke, Isabella!" He turns to my brother. "It was a joke, Anthony. _Cristo santo_!"

Mom giggles and adjusts her scarf. "I know, honey. You'll both do fine. But seriously, one'a youse go up there now. She's in the playpen."

You'll _both_ do fine. Am I invisible?

Dad frowns at her. "Where're you goin'?"

"To church." Mom grabs her purse. "I gotta pray for my whoring sons."

"Reformed hea'!" Anthony hollers from behind the fridge door.

"Oh, my love." Dad hugs her to him. "You can pray in the bedroom, and while you're down on your knees—"

Mom slaps his chest, looking like she's trying not to laugh, and heads for the door. "I'll see youse later!"

My forehead hits the countertop.


	30. Finale 2

**Posting this a day early 'cause I'm so thankful for all the birthday wishes I've recieved on Facebook and Twitter. THANK YOU! **

**And special thanks to Lisa, Lexi, and Francesca! Even if they're not very happy with me right now... ;)  
**

**Tough times ahead? Yeah, a bit.**

* * *

**Grand Finale**

**Chapter 2**

**Translation:**

_Non gli bastano mai_ = He just can't get enough.

_Ma vaffanculo!_ = Fuck you!

_Andrà tutto bene_ = It'll be fine.

_Povera piccolina_ = That poor little girl.

**Hummingbird's POV**

"I fucking swear, _bell'uccellino_!" Junior shouts from the living room. "This guy will live forever! He's got a pair of brass balls, lemme tell ya."

I chuckle to myself, rolling my eyes, and add the garlic to the marinara. The ravioli should be done soon, too.

"What's he talkin' about?" Gabriella asks as she gently rocks a tired Allegra in her arms.

"_The Crocodile Hunter_," I say dryly. "It's his newest obsession on the Discovery Channel."

"Oh," she giggles.

As I wash my hands, I peer out the kitchen window to see if Joseph's here yet, but no. However, my oldest son pulls up. It's lunchtime, so it's a little odd he's here, but perhaps he's found Dominic?

He's been missing for the past three days—ever since we learned about Lia's existence—but I won't allow myself to break down. 'Cause if I do, Junior will be pissed, and he'll threaten to "rearrange Dominic's face." So, I keep it all bottled up—I hide behind my smile.

I mean…I know he's…_fine_—Dominic, that is. But he hasn't come around, and he hasn't even been at his apartment above _Stella_. Instead we hear through the grapevine that he's working, partying…

It's killing me, but Junior's already so furious at him that I don't want to add to it. It's always been like that; if I cry, my husband will go out and make whomever suffer just 'cause I'm upset.

"Mom!" Anthony enters the house, shouting. "Dad!"

"Shh!" Gabriella sticks her head out of the kitchen doorway and gestures at their Allegra. "She's almost asleep."

"I didn't know you were here, _micina_." Anthony grins and plants a wet one on Gabriella. "And how's my little princess?" He dips down and nuzzles Allegra's cheek.

The sight is so precious, I could just cry. And it makes my heart ache, hoping Lia will have that soon, too. The little girl deserves it. She's just an innocent baby, and her mother—may God forgive her. I do the Sign of the Cross, sad for the young girl who ended her own life. There's no real explanation, either.

I begged Junior to investigate it, so he had a couple boys working on it. But all we know is that she was struggling to make ends meet; she didn't have any family, and since she had Lia to take care of, we guess she couldn't go to the college at which she'd been accepted. They'd found a letter from CCSN in her apartment. And without money for day care or a babysitter…

It's just so sad.

We would've helped her.

Now there's a baby girl in the living room with Junior, and she is so cuddly and beautiful and sweet, but she's…in limbo? She doesn't have a mother, and we're waiting to find out if Dominic's her father.

There's no way we're getting the authorities involved, so for now, Junior and I are taking care of her.

"Hey, Mom." Anthony brings me back to now, and he kisses my cheek. "I got you something." He places a box on the counter; there's an image of a cell phone on it. "I got one for Gabriella, Julia, and Elisa, too."

My mouth quirks up and I dry my hands on a towel. "Where did'ju get these from?"

He shrugs and smiles innocently. "They fell off a truck?"

"Right." I snort and shake my head, having heard that line a million times in the past. When I was little, it was my dad, then Jasper, then Junior, and now…now, it's my sons. It is what it is. "That's very sweet of you, _topolino_, but you know what your father thinks about cell phones."

Sure, cell phones have existed for a long time, but it's not until now more and more people are getting them. And Junior thinks the FBI is behind it, just so they can listen in on wiseguys' conversations.

"So, don't use it in the house," he says. "But you can bring it when you go out."

I bite my lip, thinking my son is awfully sweet, but… "I don't know how they work," I admit.

"I'll help you," he chuckles and drapes an arm around me. God, he's freaking tall. They all are now. Anthony and Dominic both stand at six foot two, and my husband's only an inch taller. I feel like a midget. "This way, you know, when you're at the salon or whatevuh, you can call Zia Brianna."

"Oh." My lip quivers and I hug Anthony so hard. He's been extra attentive the past few days, 'cause he knows how difficult this is for me—with the whole Dominic thing. And I do miss my sister-in-law, who now lives in Kansas City. "Thank you, baby."

He just smiles and changes the topic to food.

"It's almost done," I say with a nod. "You stayin', or do you want me to pack a lunch?"

Gabriella huffs a chuckle. "You already ate the sandwiches I packed for you, didn't you?"

Anthony shrugs and rubs his belly. "I'm a growing boy."

"I packed two." She widens her eyes, Allegra fussing in her arms. "They were a foot long."

"Anthony and his sandwiches," I giggle and pat his cheek. "_Non gli bastano mai_."

"See, you know how it is, Ma." He winks at me before walking over to his wife. "I'mma be late tonight." Picking up Allegra, he cuddles her while he continues. "And I'll be outta town next week."

A fist grips my heart, but I push down my fears when I see the same emotions in Gabriella's eyes. I subtly shake my head at her, silently telling her to keep it inside. That's what the women in our family are here for. We support each other, bitch and whine, cry and rant. But she's gotta be strong in front of Anthony and their children.

"Be safe," she whispers eventually.

"Always am," he answers—much like his dad used to do. It's been a long time since Junior left town for business, and now it kills me that Anthony's doing it. "I'll tell you more about it tonight if you're awake when I get home." But I know he won't tell her much. Not what he's gonna do, not where he's going. "Where's TJ?"

Gabriella clears her throat, wiping away any trace of melancholy. "He needed new overalls, and Mom wanted to spend some time with him."

Anthony nods as Junior appears in the kitchen with Lia.

"She smells like shit," he states, holding Lia away from him. He's waiting for one of the women to take her. "For being so little and cute, she can drop a deuce like no other."

"Ba-ba!" Lia babbles.

I chuckle and roll my eyes, about to take her, but Gabriella steps forward instead.

"I'll take her," she offers.

Once she disappears upstairs with Lia, Anthony sits down with Allegra, and Junior leans back against the counter, snatching up olives from a snack plate near the sink.

"What'chu doin' hea', _tesoro_?" He jerks his chin at Anthony.

"I was in the neighborhood," Anthony answers. "And what's with you nowadays? You don't like to get dressed anymore?" He eyes his father's robe and sweatpants, to which I withhold my laugh.

Truth is, Junior's turned in to a couch potato. Around lunchtime, he'll take a swim in the pool before getting ready for work, but before then he's always in comfy clothes. And there's an ass print that says "Junior was here" on the couch.

Junior's always started work late, so his being home at this hour isn't new. But he used to be asleep 'til noon, though that's changed. Since he only comes home late two or three nights a week now, he usually gets up around eight or nine, only to put on sweats and his robe and plant his ass in front of the Discovery Channel.

"It's my goddamn house," he bitches. "You can get the fuck out if my incredible body offends you."

"Incredible?" Anthony cracks up.

"That's enough outta both'a youse," I warn, glaring at Anthony. Fuckin' idiot, tryin'a rile up Junior. It wouldn't end up well in our son's favor, so I'd rather put a stop to it before it can begin. "Anthony, you stayin' or not?" I put my hands on my hips.

"I'll take my food to go," he decides as Junior pulls me to him. "Dad's about to start slobberin' all over you—makes me lose my appetite."

"_Ma vaffanculo!_," Junior spits out, and I sigh against my husband's chest. I swear, all these years I wanted them to be home more often. Now? I'm beginning to question it. "It was my love for your mother that created you. Show some fuckin' appreciation, kid!"

"Easy, _ciccino_," I chide, not wanting Allegra to get upset. "What's up with you two? Been a slow week?" I eye them both, thinking I might be right. And when they're bored at work, they go at each other with their bitchfaces. Hell, it's almost a good thing Dominic isn't here, then.

"It's nothing," Junior grumbles and nips at my neck. "No matta'. I'm hungry."

"Food's almost done." I nod and move away to check the ravioli. "Mario will be here soon." He's proved to be an excellent chef, and he works at _Stella_ now. Obviously, he also works for Junior; he's keeping an eye on Mario since the boy is now allowed to date Elisa. Anyway, he's coming over to pick up a few new recipes and samples. "And Joseph…" I peer out the window again, hoping, wishing, praying…

~oOo~

Half an hour later, Anthony's left, Allegra's asleep upstairs, Junior's eating on the patio, Mario's stopped by, Carm's dropped off TJ, and Gabriella and I are in the pool with him and Lia.

We're still waiting for Joseph.

While TJ splashes around, wearing both a life vest and his floaties, Lia's a lot more cautious. She clings to me, refusing to get too wet, but she giggles like mad when I make bubbles at the surface with my mouth.

"Nonna! Lookie hea'!" TJ shouts, laughing.

"I'm looking, sweetheart," I chuckle. Pressing my lips to Lia's forehead and cheeks, I try to determine if she's cold, but I'm worrying for nothing. Junior had heaters installed when TJ was born. That way, they can use the pool year-round. I mean, it's a solid 75 degrees outside now, which is hot for January, but the pool wouldn't have been all that nice without the heaters. "Do you wanna get out, Lia?" I ask, then point to the patio and slowly move toward the edge. "You wanna get out?"

"No!" She pulls in the other direction and makes a wroom-wroom noise, which she's done every time I make bubbles. She giggles and squishes my cheeks together, being too fucking cute.

"Did she say Nonno?!" Junior shouts and gets up from his chair. He doesn't leave the patio, though.

"No!" Lia squeals. "No, no, no!"

"She's saying she doesn't wanna get out!" I holler back, laughing.

"Nonno!" TJ yells.

"What's up, baby?" Junior squints into the sun. "You wanna come out?"

"No." He grins and splashes away. "Chase me, Mama," he says. "Now!"

I suck my teeth. "Ask nicely, TJ." God, he's like his father. And uncle. And nonno. To sum it up, he's a demanding little Maisano boy. "You gotta be strict with his manners, hon," I tell Gabriella.

"I know," she sighs and swims toward him. "I'm trying, but it's like he only obeys Anthony."

"That's because you can be too nice," I say. I really don't want to butt in.

I remember hating it when Junior's mother gave advice about Anthony and Dominic when they were little, but she was right in the end. The boys in our family are headstrong and have tempers to match the devil's. From an early age, they gotta learn to respect others, and most definitely women.

But there's one thing the Maisano men can't handle. "Ignore him," I suggest. "Keep an eye on him, but ignore him. Don't obey him." When ignored, it's only a matter of time before they come crawling back.

"But he'll cry." Gabriella pouts.

"That won't kill him." I smirk. "If you always spoil him with attention, however, _you_ will kill him when he's a teenager and can't say 'please' and 'thank you.'"

"You're evil, hummingbird." Junior walks over and sits down on the edge, his feet in the water. "But Isabella's right," he tells Gabriella. "Make sure he respects you. Or I'll tell Anthony to—"

"Don't go there," I say quickly.

When Anthony and Dominic were bad as kids…I was the lunatic who waved a wooden spoon around, but I never followed through. I raised my hand and shouted at them, but I could never lay a hand on my children. Junior with our boys was another matter.

"Don't interrupt me," he replies irritably. "Anthony and Dominic turned out just fine—" I cock a brow. "What?!" he shouts. "They did!"

I wave a hand, 'cause I don't wanna get into all that. Over the past few days, I've been doubting everything. Somewhere along the line, I must've done something wrong. Otherwise I wouldn't have a son who's doing God knows what while we're taking care of the baby girl he may or may not be the father of.

My husband keeps repeating: he's eighteen, he's eighteen—his mistakes are his own.

But I don't know…

"Listen to me—" Junior begins to say, but Duchess's barking cuts him off. While she runs inside the house, my heart jumps up into my throat, 'cause I know it's likely that Joseph's here now.

"Go," Gabriella urges us softly. "Gimme Lia. I'll get her dry."

I nod and release a shaky breath, and once Lia's with Gabriella, I swim over to the edge where Junior gives me a hand.

"_Andrà tutto bene_," he promises me and hands me my robe. He makes sure it's closed properly. "No matta' what happens…" He trails off with an eyebrow arched at me.

"I know." I swallow. "It'll be fine." I fucking hope.

With a hand on my lower back, he ushers me inside and tells me to make some fresh coffee while he gets the door.

And by the time Junior and Joseph appear in the kitchen, I'm trembling, and I've just put on the coffeemaker.

"Joseph," I greet nervously.

"How you doin', Bella?" He kisses my cheek; meanwhile I'm watching my husband who's reading a piece of paper. Not using his new glasses. He refuses—says they're for pussies.

"Juniuh," I say in a way of asking. I need him to tell me. Is Dominic the father or not? Truth be told, I don't know what's best—for Lia or Dominic.

Junior clears his throat, and I see the glistening in his eyes, which he's quick to hide. Putting down the paper, he scrubs a hand down his face and blows out a heavy breath.

"Dominic's the father."

"Oh—" I choke up, my hand covering my mouth, and my vision blurs completely. _Oh, my God_. My mind spins so fast I almost get dizzy. For me, there's no suppressing the tears. They stream down as worry overtakes me. Worry for my son, who's not mature enough to take care of a little girl. Worry for Lia…heartache, 'cause she deserves love, stability, and comfort. Worry for what Junior will do.

Dominic's partying too much, working too hard, and can barely take care of himself. How's he going to do this? How's he going to be a dad?

I've begged him to slow down, but he says he can handle it.

I don't think he can. Not even Anthony was this…wild and out there.

Knowing that Julia will be home from school soon, I try to pull myself together, but it just won't happen. Junior pulls me to his body, squeezing me tight, and I let go, sobbing my heart out.

There's a small spark of hope—maybe Lia will save Dominic. Maybe she will straighten him up. Calm him down. Mature him. But…I just don't know. It's not fair. He's only eighteen—just turned in December last year, and to push a ten-month-old baby on to him…

Anthony's so different. He married Gabriella when he was eighteen; it was actually _her_ seventeenth birthday, and they were ready for both TJ and Allegra. They have their house, a nice home, and Anthony has his life sorted out. He knows his priorities.

"We'll work it out, _bell'uccellino_." My husband shushes me softly, kisses my head, and hugs me harder. "We always do, don't we?"

"We—we can take c-care of her," I cry, my voice muffled by his chest.

Junior doesn't reply.

Instead, while I keep crying, I hear him asking Joseph if anyone's heard from Dominic today.

Joseph quietly says no, but that his little brother—Francis—is the one to seek out. If anyone knows where Dominic is, it's Francis. Or Frankie, as he's called now. And…in my own opinion, it could be worth giving Elisa a call, too. She and Dominic are close—always have been, just like Anthony and Julia.

"Isabella…" Junior cups my cheeks and makes me look up, and he wipes some tears away under my eyes. "I need to go out and find him, all right?"

"Be easy on him," I plead tearfully. While the boy needs a fucking reality check, I don't want my husband to resort to violence. Dominic's just a baby. "I'm begging you." I whimper.

"I'll get back as soon as I can—with Dominic," is all he says.

**Junior's POV**

After a quick shower and getting dressed in a suit, I get into Joseph's car and run a comb through my hair.

"I called my brother," he says, pulling out from our driveway. "He's waiting for us at Dawn."

I nod and pocket my comb, then light up a smoke, needing to calm down before I explode.

A few days ago when Dominic left the house after the doc had taken his DNA, I told myself to let him be until we got the results. I told myself to stay away. But now? Forget about it. Isabella and I have both called him, and I have sent messages through others, stating that he needs to at least pick up the motherfucking phone to tell his mother he's alive. Yet, he hasn't. He's avoiding this—plain and fucking simple, and I won't tolerate it. Definitely not now when we know he's Lia's dad.

_Povera piccolina._

As easy as it would be for me and my wife to take Lia in, it's not right. Dominic's gonna man up and take responsibility. His mother and I can _help_, but that's it.

Lia aside, what worries me most is Dominic's love for coke and alcohol. I've already told Alec to make sure none of his boys provide my son with any of it, but while my brother's the biggest supplier in this town, he's obviously not the only one.

When we arrive at Dawn, I get outta the car, spotting Francis by the entrance. Much like Dominic, he goes for holey jeans, boots, and a leather jacket instead of a fucking suit. Youngsters, man…

"Mr. Maisano," he greets politely, looking nervous.

I skip the bullshit. "Where is he, son?"

"Look—" he holds up his hands "—he told me doesn't wanna be disturb—"

"Now's not the fucking time," Joseph warns as I take a step closer to Francis. "Tell him where Dee is if you know."

"You should listen to your brother, Francis," I advise, adjusting the cuff links on my sleeves. "You're not the only one who can be creative with a bat." My mouth quirks up.

"_Cazzo_," he curses, roughly scrubbing a hand down his face. Then he pulls out a business card from a pocket. "He rents Room 16 there sometimes." He hands me the card. "I know he's there now."

Handing the card to Joseph, I close in and cup Francis's neck. "Listen," I say quietly, squeezing a little, "I admire your loyalty to Dominic, but I come first, yes?"

He nods jerkily. "Yes, sir."

"_Bene_." I nod and step back. Jerking my chin to the car, I tell Joseph, "Let's check out this motel."

~oOo~

As we get to the motel in a seedier part of town, Joseph and I climb the outside stairs toward Room 16, and I'm glad we don't have to bother with a fucking receptionist or anything. Pulling out the nine from my waistband, I prepare myself to see anything in that room.

We knock, but there's no response whatsoever, so I stand back while Joseph picks the lock.

And once we get in…

"Jesus Christ," I whisper, assaulted by the smell of vomit, booze, and weed. There's something else, too—fuckin'…he better not have… "What we see in here stays here." I put a hand on Joseph's arm, stopping him from walking farther in. "I'll tell Felix and Ed what's necessary. _Capisce_?"

"Of course." He frowns.

I nod. Leaving the small entryway, I enter the dark room. With the sun filtering through the cracks in the covered window, I see smoke from whatever he's used. And _he_…is right there on the bed.

I was wrong.

I wasn't prepared. Not for this.

I'd been ready to kick out doped-up sluts, but this? This breaks my fucking heart.

Walking over to the bed, I put down the gun and check Dominic's pulse. Around him, I see all the proof I need. Motherfucking heroin. He's only wearing a pair of jeans, and I can see where he's shot up in his arm.

"Oh, Dominic," I murmur thickly, placing a hand on his forehead. He stirs, a lazy smile on his lips; meanwhile, I wanna cry. And hit something. Hard.

"It can't be too pure," Joseph says quietly from somewhere behind me. "It smells too much."

I agree. The scent of vinegar is too strong, to the point where it's nauseating, but I'm not exactly an expert on heroin. I don't know where he got it from, what it's cut with, or how long he's been using. What I do know is that he's both smoked it and injected it. The needle proves the latter and the strong odor in the air explains that he's smoked it, too.

But while you create a tolerance for it quickly, it's also a more noticeable addiction. I'd like to think we would've known if this has been going on for a while.

"Help me get him down to the car," I say, clearing my throat.

~oOo~

"You okay?" Joseph asks me as I close the car door to the backseat.

I don't reply, instead just watching my baby boy through the window. Lighting up a smoke, I take deep, calming pulls, but it doesn't really work. If I don't find some privacy soon, it's gonna get ugly.

There's no way I can let my wife see him this way. Hell, I don't want her to see _me_ this way. I know I look like a caged animal, ready to fight to the death.

"I want the room cleaned," I force out. I press a fist to my mouth, struggling to get ahold of myself. When nausea and dizziness creep forward, I move to the passenger's seat and get in. But I don't close the door. "You're gonna have to tell your father," I go on. "And mine." Because I won't be able to. "Then I want you to book a room or something for me…" I run a hand through my hair, thinking what I need—what Dominic will need. Seclusion. Fresh air. Privacy. There's gonna be withdrawal, even if it's just short-term use. "A cabin." I nod. "I'll drive toward Salt Lake City, and I'll call you on the way."

"Got it," he replies instantly. "You're gonna help him through detox?" I nod absently and look back to Dominic's oblivious form. It's only a matter of time before the rush is over and he wakes up. "Do you want me to call Bella? Or Anthony?"

_God. Isabella._

"She can't know the details," I whisper. "Tell her that everything will be fine. Tell her I'm gonna be there for him for a few days while he sobers up." She already knows he's not a saint. She's seen him high and drunk. But there's a difference between weed and heroin. "Tell her I'll call her when I can." Pulling out my wallet, I note that I only have a few hundred bucks, so I decide to stop by _Stella_ before we go. That way, I can pack a small bag of essentials for Dominic, too, since he lives above the restaurant. "And Anthony…tell him to be there for his mother and sisters."

It's not long before I drive Joseph's car outta Vegas, my high-off-his-ass son riding out his wave of euphoria in the backseat.


	31. Finale 3

**Sorry for the delay! I'm keeping Lisa busier than usual because I have a novel that'll be published in a few days. And whattaya know, she can't edit two things at once ;)**

**Special thanks to Lisa, Lexi, and Francesca!**

* * *

**Grand Finale**

**Chapter 3**

**Translation:**

_Non ci pensare, mamma = _Don't think about it, Mom.

_Non capisce un cazzo = _He doesn't understand shit.

_Ho detto va bene! = _I said fine!

_Tale padre, tale figlio_ = Like father, like son.

_Davvero non te ne accorgi, eh? = _You really don't see it, do you?

**Hummingbird's POV**

"Move away from the door, Anthony." I glare up at my son and put my hands on my hips. "I swear to _Christ_, if you don't move…"

"Let me check first, a'ight?" he says impatiently. "There might be stuff in there that you shouldn't see—"

Sick of his shielding me, I shove him aside, knowing he won't resort to physical force with his mommy. I bring out the key and unlock the door to Dominic's apartment above _Stella_.

"_Mom_," Anthony groans.

"Nothing in there can break my heart more than it already is," I snap and enter the hallway. _My God_. I pinch my nose and march straight into the living room and open the windows facing the street. It's not booze, but it's filth, stale air, and rotten food. Behind me, I hear Elisa directing Mario and two of his friends on where to start cleaning.

Those boys don't wanna be here one bit, they won't refuse me. Or Junior, obviously. And Mario's willing to go to great lengths to show Junior what a good boyfriend he is to Elisa.

Meanwhile, Anthony hurries down a hall that leads to the three bedrooms and the only bathroom.

"Should I start in the kitchen?" Julia scrunches her nose.

I nod and motion the roll of big, black trash bags we brought. "Just throw everything out. _Everything_." My husband knew I was going crazy at home, so he gave me unlimited funds to redecorate Dominic's apartment. He said, _"Go nuts. Just don't fucking ruin us, hummingbird." _

Then he'd hung up the phone to help Dominic puke his guts out.

_Mannaggia_, it hurts to think about. It hurts so bad. And…knowing my husband, he's probably holding out on me. Joseph told me Junior's somewhere with Dominic, helping him sober up, and my husband confirmed this when I spoke to him several hours later. But I'm afraid it's worse than that.

"_Non ci pensare, mamma_," Julia whispers, knowing me too well. I nod and fan my face, then send up a quick prayer as I check my makeup in my mirror. "I'll start emptying the fridge."

"I'll go with you," Elisa says, and I can tell she's on the verge of falling apart, too. They both are, but Elisa and Dominic…they're so close.

After putting up my hair in a high ponytail, I put on a pair of rubber gloves and start throwing old food containers in a trash bag. Anthony reappears from down the hall, and he's carrying one duffle bag and one paper bag; I ask what it is, but he pretends to be on the phone while he walks out. _Little fucker_. He's probably on his way down to Junior's office at _Stella_ to hide whatever he found in Dominic's rooms.

"Mikey's here with the U-haul now, Mrs. Maisano," one of Mario's friends says. "You want us to start carrying down the furniture?"

"Yes, thank you." I straighten up and blow some hair outta my face. "The couches in hea' go first." I point to the two matching leather sofas. "The coffee table, too. And…actually, everything's going."

Anthony comes in again and says, "Youse can leave the room farthest down the hall alone." I arch a brow, and he elaborates. "It's his gym, and he's got some work shit in there."

That won't do. "If there's stuff no one's allowed to see, you clear it out," I tell him, doubting that's the case. Wiseguys don't exactly make it a habit to keep paperwork around. "It'll be his bedroom when I'm done with this place."

I've been going nuts in our house since Junior left yesterday to find our son, but it's enough. Trust me, I have energy to turn this stinky bachelor pad into a nice home by the time Junior and Dominic come back. And according to my husband, I have at least four more days.

"His bedroom is the one in the middle." Anthony frowns, then steps aside as Mario and another guy carry out one of the couches. "The first one's empty."

"The middle room will be Lia's," I answer. "And the first will be Dani's." Leaning over, I return to picking up trash and filthy clothes.

"Wait, what?" Oh, I was hoping Anthony hadn't picked up on that last part. "Who the fuck is Dani?"

Well…

Last night, when Junior had arrived to…wherever he is with our son, he told us that when they get back, Dominic's gonna take responsibility and raise Lia. Which scares the ever-loving crap outta me—and I'm speaking for all mothers out there. 'Cause let's face it, Dominic is not ready to take care of another human being. It's too much for him. But since Junior refuses to give in, I made him meet me halfway. I asked him—no, I _told_ him that we'd hire a nanny, someone who could be there a lot. And my husband agreed, said it was reasonable.

"Daniela—Gina's cousin," I answer. Gina is Nicola's wife, and she's got a younger cousin who just moved out here. I admit, when I heard this girl is only eighteen—or rather, she turns eighteen next week—I balked. Lia needs someone with experience, but…then I met Dani last night.

Gina had been at the house with me, Gabriella, Elisa, and Julia, and we got to talking; Gina suggested Dani and called her over.

Daniela Cicero is essentially me—when I was a teenager. She's got street smarts, and she grew up looking after her younger siblings, much like I took care of Nicola and Lucia. When Gina mentioned her uncle, Dani's father, there was darkness in Gina's voice, so I think there's a story there. But I didn't push; it wasn't the time or the place.

Aside from experience with kids, Dani is tough. She's got balls. She won't take Dominic's bullshit, she won't be fooled, and she will demand respect.

"Does she even speak English?" Anthony asks incredulously, widening his arms. "It's the broad who lives with Nicola and Gina, right?" He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Look, I haven't met her yet, but didn't she get here like a few days ago?"

I roll my eyes. "Why you talking crazy? She went to high school in Queens, for Christ's sake." Yes, Dani was born and raised in Italy, just like Gina was, but they've been in this country for a few years now—Gina longer than Dani. As far as I know, Dani's siblings are now with an aunt so that Dani can get a life of her own.

After graduating high school last spring, she decided to take a year off to work. Now she's here. And she's found work.

"I don't think Dee's gonna be too happy about some girl being his roommate," Anthony says.

"Tough shit," I spit out. "He doesn't get a choice hea', so drop it."

~oOo~

Over the next several hours, we clear out Dominic's apartment while we try to not think about him. Impossible feat. But we do get a lot done. By dropping the Maisano name all over town, I have several people rushing here to my aid—anything to suck up to my husband—offering their services.

Two guys start ripping up the carpets in the hallway and two bedrooms; that's where I want hardwood floors. Another guy comes over to clean the carpet in the living room and the one that will be Lia's room. Then we have a few who bring over catalogues from their furniture stores. One man offers a new bathroom fifty percent off, one tells me he'll install a new kitchen in three days, one wants to gift my son new china and silverware.

Anthony listens to their hushed requests and accepts their business cards at the door…

"This isn't really like you, Mom," Elisa says, amused. "Taking advantage of our name and all."

I shrug. "I want this done quickly. I'll just donate more money at church on Sunday." It'll be fine. As long as my baby boy comes back to an apartment worthy of being called a home. "Gina and Dani should be here soon." I check my watch, seeing it's nearly dinnertime. Mario's downstairs working now, so Elisa will fetch our dinner as soon as my nephew's wife and cousin get here. "Hmm, perhaps I should give Gabriella a call." She's been an angel; aside from taking care of her own children, she's also watching over Lia today. Thankfully, Julia's on her way there now to help out. And Carm's there, too.

"You called her an hour ago," Elisa points out with a little smirk. "You gotta stop tryin'a be everywhere." Her amusement fades slightly, replaced by concern. "Do you want me to move back home to help you some more?"

"No, that's fine, _bella bambina_." I cup her cheek, thinking how much Elisa has matured over the past few years. Gone is the brat. She's now a beautiful young woman of twenty-one, and she's waiting for Mario to pop the question. In the meantime, she lives with Junior's parents out in Henderson. Which is good. Elizabeth needs the company, and Ed's getting forgetful in his old age.

"Mom," Anthony calls, and I look to him to see that Gina and Dani are here now.

"I think she'll be good for Dee," Elisa muses.

I agree. Dani might look innocent; she can't be taller than five foot three, and she's got these big, beautiful light brown eyes, a dimpled smile, an hourglass figure that she hides behind form-fitting but modest dresses—none of that shit kids today usually wear. No miniskirts that show half your ass or tops where you show your belly.

But she's not a weak one. I've seen the confidence in her eyes, the purpose in her step, and heard the way she speaks. She's never been sheltered.

"You mean she'll be good for Lia, though, right?" I tilt my head, smiling at Gina who's introducing Dani to Anthony. Hmm. "Do you think Gina's pregnant?" I whisper, leaning closer to Elisa. Nicola and Gina have five-year-old Michael and two-year-old Christopher, and it looks like a third one might be on the way.

I wish my brother could be here. Jasper would be so proud of his son. Of course, they do see each other when Nicola visits him in prison, but that's hardly the same. Plus, Nicola rarely brings his children.

"Maybe," Elisa says pensively, then walks over to say hi to Gina and Dani.

~oOo~

When dinner gets here, it's just Elisa, Gina, Dani, and me left. Anthony had only planned on staying for an hour tops, but then he'd ended up staying almost the entire day. So, now he had to go to work and he had to tell his wife he'll be late.

We're on the floor in the living room, food containers from _Stella_ mixing with color samples and catalogues. We've already settled on pink, yellow, and white for Lia's room; Elisa's in charge of Dominic's room, and now I'm on to encouraging Dani to pick out stuff for her own room.

She says she's not comfortable spending money that isn't her own on a room…

"What about this?" I show her a spread with an Indian theme. It's got rich colors of burgundy, plum, gold, and moss green. "It says the bed frame also comes in black and silver." These days, not everyone is crazy about gold—or brass as it is with furniture.

"It is very nice," she says in her beautiful Italian accent. "But I don't have, ah…_come si dice_…a preference?" She shrugs modestly.

I wave it off. "I'll take care of it, honey. Just leave it to me." Judging by the dark purple dress she's wearing, I assume it's a color she likes. It would go very well with beige and details in silver. "I should probably go call Juniuh before it gets too late." Getting up off the floor, I walk to the kitchen where the one and only phone is. That's another thing he needs. Everyone's gotta have a fucking cordless. In the pocket of my black pants, I pull out the number Junior told me I could reach him on and dial.

He picks up at the second ring.

_"Yes?"_ He sounds tired.

"It's me, _ciccino_," I say softly, my stomach knotting up. "How are you? How's Dominic?"

_"I'm good. Dominic's…"_ He chuckles darkly. _"He's wishing he never even laid eyes on a drink."_

"Oh," I whimper, so damn worried. "Is he in pain?" I remember my dad when he went through withdrawals; he'd be screaming and moaning and retching. Then he'd give up and go out to drink… "He's just a baby."

_"He's eighteen—this needs to hurt, Isabella,"_ Junior replies. _"And it could be worse. Better he suffers through this shit now."_

"But you're nice to him, right?" I plead, sniffling. "He needs our support. He needs to know we're there for him."

_"He also needs to know what he's putting his family through,"_ he snaps. _"It makes me so fucking mad—"_

"Junior," I choke out. "_Please_."

I cradle the phone, needing comfort.

His next words do just that—they comfort me. For now.

_"I'm being easy on him, hummingbird,"_ he sighs. _"Trust me. All I want is for him to get better."_

**Dominic's POV**

"You're a fucking disgrace!" Dad shouts, fisting my shirt and pulling me close to his face. My upper body leaves the bathroom floor, all by his force. Through blurry vision and dizziness, my sluggish mind registers that I've never seen him this furious. "You know what kills me right now?" He grabs my jaw roughly, squeezing hard. "That your mother cries for you."

_Fuck you!_

I flinch away from him and curl into a ball near the toilet. Despite only wearing boxers, I'm soaked in sweat—cold as fuck. With each round of nausea, I'm vomiting until I cry out in pain. The cramps…God, the fucking _cramps_. I clutch my stomach, weeping shamelessly, while Dad sits on the edge of the tub shaking his head at me.

It's been like this for hours now—ever since I woke up. Well, Dad woke me up. By punching me in the face and throwing cold water on me.

_Goddamn monster._

I wanna kill him. I swear to God. _Non capisce un cazzo_. He keeps shouting at me; meanwhile, what does he really know? Just breezing through life, swimming in money, the perfect wife who pushed out a few kids, and Christ, the way my mother spoils him, dotes on him… He don't know _shit_.

All I want is what I had…whenever, yesterday? I've lost track of time. But it'd be easy—shoot up one more time, a smaller hit, and then the withdrawal won't be so bad. Right? I mean, it makes sense. 'Cause I'd been getting high for three days straight, and before that… Coke gives me more time. I don't need sleep; I can work more—make more dough. Simple as that. The yak keeps me alert. And the heroin…I don't fucking know, I just remember waking up, knowing the day would end with the results from the paternity test. I wasn't ready. I'm still not. So, I bought the H, having heard it gives you instant bliss—a calm where everything's all right in the world.

If Dad only had a clue, he'd get it. He'd understand.

"You still think heroin's cool?" Dad asks.

I never thought it was cool—fucking piece'a shit! I wanted to forget. That so bad? I wanted to erase the past few days from my memory, and I settled for getting high. My father seems to think I'm some low-life junkie, but it was the first goddamn time I bought H.

I groan in misery, feeling another wave of nausea rolling through me. Weakly grabbing on to the toilet seat, I try to pull myself up, but it doesn't work. Just as I collapse down again, I start to retch.

At the same time, I clench down, trying not to shit myself.

"Yeah, this really makes you look like a man," he spits out. "Throwing up all ova'. What if Mom saw you now, huh? Think she'd be proud'a you?"

"S-stop." I gag and cry out at the same time, then lose whatever's left in my stomach on the tiled floor. "Fuck," I whimper. Reaching up, I wipe my mouth, wincing at the pain from the cut—courtesy of Edward Maisano.

Shaking violently, there's nothing I can do but suffer through the seizure-like cramps that twist and pull at my insides. Everything hurts—to move, to think, to cry, to fucking breathe.

I vomit, shit, and ache.

~oOo~

I don't know what time it is or how long I've been out, but when I wake up, I'm outside on some wooden patio, and it's dark.

This cabin or whatever is fucking surrounded by trees and mountains.

Feeling hot even with the crisp air, I shake off the countless blankets and sluggishly sit up in the huge Adirondack chair. Dad must've changed my clothes—they're my own, a pair of boxers and a t-shirt.

A few heaters are glowing, making it warmer than it really is. At least I guess so since I can clearly see frost on some of the trees.

_Where the fuck are we?_

"Put the fucking blankets back on." Dad bitches at me, emerging from inside the house. Dressed in tracksuit, he sits down in the chair next to me and lights up a smoke. "Joining the living again, huh?" He jerks his chin at the floor by my chair. "There's water. Drink. You had a fever earlier, and you need fluids."

"How—" I croak then clear my throat, all dry and scratchy. "How long was I asleep?" Leaning over the armrest, I grab the bottle of water and take a couple slow sips.

Nothing is comfortable. My skin's all itchy, and I can still feel nausea rolling around in my gut. I'm running both hot and cold. My head is fucking _pounding_… I feel empty and agitated.

"You wasn't asleep," he mutters, staring out at nothing. "Unless it's a habit of yours to throw up and shit yourself when you're asleep. But you was out nearly twenty-four hours. In the end, I just dropped you in the fucking tub. Wiping shit and piss is for babies. You know, I had to hose you down as if you were Duke or Duchess—_dogs_, Dominic—"

"Don't start," I whisper, closing my eyes. What he's doing now…he's humiliating me. As if I'm not humiliated enough as it is. "Where are we?"

"Just outside Salt Lake."

_Madonn'_, I don't know nobody in fuckin' Utah.

I need to wake up, I need to— Okay, I don't need it; I ain't ruled by anything, but a couple lines of coke would do the trick. I'd be back to normal.

"You're gonna get cleaned up," Dad says, flicking away some ash. "When we get home, things are gonna change. You'll be with me now, and you're gonna be the father Lia deserves."

_Punch. In. The. Gut._

"Yeah, she's yours." His eyes meet mine. "And you're gonna take your responsibility. _Capisce_?"

I stare at him, my jaw clenching. The blue eyes on that kid have haunted me for days now. I gotta get away from it all. I'm too young to deal with that shit.

"Answer me, Dominic," he grits out.

"Fine," I bite out.

He cups his ear. "What was that? I couldn't hear you."

"_Ho detto va bene!_" _Cazzo_, I hate this son of a bitch. Acts like he owns the world…

"Try again." He twirls a finger, glaring. "Respectfully this time."

Burning up with rage, I snap a blank expression into place and say, "Yes, sir. Can we go home now?"

"Like you're ready for that." He scoffs and leans back in his seat. "Maybe you've gotten through most of the detox, but you got a long road ahead'a you, son. Before we even think about going home, I wanna make sure all those toxins are outta you."

"Check you out." I snort. "Talkin' like you're a saint."

"Don't get smart with me," he threatens with a sinister smile. "I gave you life—I can take it away, too."

Thing is, he probably means it. That's how much he loves his kids…

"I believe you," I say dully. "Can I have painkillers at least?"

"No." He smirks and flicks away his smoke. "But back to that other thing. Can you promise me you'll straighten up?"

"Yeah." I barely refrain from rolling my eyes. "I swear."

It's quiet for a while, Dad staring out at the dark forest again, and I suffer in silence. Every now and then, chills run down my spine, causing my gut to tighten and churn. It feels like after an earthquake—the aftershocks. After_shakes_.

And I _know_ how to take it all away—how to feel better.

I'm not stupid; I know it's easy to get hooked on some shit, and I _should_ slow down, be more careful, but I'm no junkie. I've got it under control. I think…

"You have no idea how much you scared me, _piccolo_," Dad says thickly after a while. "The way I found you…" Scowling, I look down and fidget with the water bottle, my mouth feeling dry even though I just drank. "It broke my heart, Dominic." He clears his throat, and when I look up, he's tilting his head away from me.

I don't reply, feeling weird. He's just bullshitting me, trying with the guilt. Mom does that shit, too, but at least she's genuine.

After a while, Dad gets up and walks inside. He returns after a few minutes, his eyes looking redder then before, and throws something at my lap—a popsicle?

I cock a brow.

"You need energy," he mutters gruffly and sits down again. "We got here the day before yesterday, and so far you've only been able to keep down water."

"You gonna kill me with a poisoned popsicle?" I chuckle mirthlessly, which makes my abs clench. And that fucking hurts. Peeling off the paper, I stare at the red popsicle, actually feeling my mouth water a bit.

"You seem to be doing a good job killing yourself on your own," he replies snidely.

_Whatever._

"So, you went on a popsicle run for me—how nice of you," I laugh.

Dad sighs and leans forward on his knees, scrubbing his hands over his face. "I had Joseph make calls. The cabin was stocked up, and I remember my little brother liked them when he went through what you're going through now." I frown and bite off a piece of the strawberry ice. It sooths my throat like nothing else. Oh, so damn good. "It was right before we moved to Vegas." He lights up another smoke, suddenly appearing ten years older than his forty-six. "He was only a year or so older than you are." Tilting his head, he cracks a smirk at me. "You hate me right now, don't you?"

I just stare at him and bite off some more of my popsicle.

"That's all right, kid." He laughs through his nose and takes a drag from his smoke. "I'm good at handling pussies." I grit my teeth. "Alec hated our pop, too. You think I've been rough on you?" He lets out a whistle. "You shoulda seen how Nonno treated your uncle. I stood by and watched him beat the shit outta Alec while he went through withdrawals."

Finished with my popsicle, I throw the paper on the ground. "_Tale padre, tale figlio_," I say dryly, side-eying his smoke.

Dad catches it and tosses me his pack and the lighter. "But not even Alec was so fucking _stupid_ that he tried heroin." He gives me a pointed look, fury simmering under the surface. I wanna flip him off, but he'd kick my ass. Instead I spark up a cigarette and avert my eyes. "He was coked-up and would crawl inside pill bottles if he could, but he pulled through."

"I don't got a fucking problem," I say impatiently, another headache settling in. My knee starts to bounce and my fingers twitch. My nose is also runny, and my skin feels tight—more sensitive. "I'll slow down, okay? What more do you want from me?" I widen my arms.

"Slowing down ain't enough for you anymore," he says. "It's time for you to grow up and become a man—"

"Again with the insults!" I shout. "Why you gotta break my balls?!"

"To break 'em you gotta have 'em," he laughs darkly.

I groan and slump back in my chair.

"Why do you think I'm doing this, huh?" he asks. "I could've been at home. I could've had been in bed with my wife after a delicious dinner. Instead I'm in the middle of nowhere listening to your sarcastic bullshit and pathetic excuses. Oh, poor me—my dad's bein' all mean." I think he's trying to mimic me there. "Nah, you're a tough guy, aren't'cha, Dominic? You'd rather sit in some cheap motel room and shoot up. Then when you don't got any money left, you'll drop to your fucking knees like some fanook—anything to get your next hit."

"You speaking from experience?" I smirk. "You ever suck a—"

Before I can even get the last word out, Dad flies at me and punches me in the jaw.

"_Cazzo_!" The pain stuns me momentarily, and I gasp for air, cupping my jaw. It's only been a week or something since that cat from Reno took a swing at me—_in the exact same spot_. Tears well up, but I refuse to let them fall.

"Grow the hell up!" Dad grabs me by my shirt, like I vaguely remember him doing in the bathroom. "What the fuck is wrong wit'chu? Huh? What's wrong wit'chu?" With a look of disgust, he lets go of me and starts pacing along the patio. "Jesus Christ!" He pulls at his hair, and I wince in pain, reaching down to get the smoke I'd dropped. "_Davvero non te ne accorgi, eh__?"_ He spins to face me. "You don't see what this is doing to the family? 'Cause it's not just Mom and me, Dominic. You shoulda heard your brother when I told him—"

"You talked to Anthony?" I groan, head swimming in dizziness.

"Damn fucking right I did," he spits out. "He's working his ass off while we're out here. He deserved to know what his little brother's up to." He laughs shakily, so angrily. "And what if I told Elisa? She's worried _sick_."

That shuts me up, a stab of guilt hitting me squarely in the chest.

Then I whisper, "I'm not her responsibility."

"No." His shoulders slump. "She just happens to love you. Shame on her, huh?"

I swallow traitorous emotions and look away.

"I'm gonna go to bed," he says tiredly.

~oOo~

An hour or so later, Dad's asleep on the couch in the living room.

When I step inside to take a piss, I pass the room where he's sleeping and spot a set of car keys on the coffee table.

It halts me.

Dad's wallet's on the table, too.

It would be easy…

There has to be some place that's still open. A club, a bar…

Briskly heading to the bathroom, I relieve myself, ending up taking a shit too, wash up, and then locate two duffel bags in the hallway. One with clothes in Dad's size—shit I haven't really seen before, I think—and one bag with stuff from my place. I grab a pair of jeans and pull them on; my leather jacket's there, too.

It's like my body knows what I'm up to, 'cause it stops hurting for a moment, as if it's encouraging me to go get what we want. Just a pick-me-up. Something to make me alert.

I won't ever do heroin again, I fucking swear. I admit it was a crazy move. But coke's different.

Sneaking over to the coffee table in the living room, I listen to Dad's steady breathing for a beat, then go for his wallet. I grab a few c-notes, put it back down, and soundlessly and carefully pick up the keys—

"I wouldn't do that I was you."

My body turns to ice; I don't think I'm even breathing, but I manage to slowly turn my head to Dad…who still looks like he's sleeping—the hand on his gun that's aimed at me notwithstanding. _Fuck, fuck, fuck_. His head is even on the pillow! His eyes are closed! But he must've had his nine under the pillow.

While I'm frozen in place, Dad takes his sweet-ass time sitting up. He yawns, puts down the gun, scratches his chest, and rubs his eyes before opening them.

He's too calm.

Truth be told, he's scaring the shit outta me.

"You looked into my eyes, and you lied to me, Dominic," he says quietly, rising from the couch. I straighten at the same time and look down. "You promised to straighten up. That was what, an hour ago?" When he's in front of me, I feel his right hand, his fingers curling high up on my throat. Right below my jaw. "But we both know you weren't planning to sightsee at this hour." He forces me to face him. I swallow hard as he grips a little harder. "You know the saying, 'a man is only as good as his word'? What do you think that means for _you_?" He stabs a finger to my chest, something that wouldn't hurt so much if I wasn't going through this…this…whatever. "There's no honor in a man who's full of shit."

I swallow again, sniveling, and feel more nausea creeping up. Gritting my teeth and blinking back tears—that I don't even have an explanation for—I stare right back, refusing to show weakness.

But I have a feeling Dad can see right through me. Mixed with the fury and disappointment is pity.

I fucking hate it.

"Are you in pain?"

I nod jerkily and try to step back, but he doesn't let me.

Sighing, he finally releases his hold. "Wait here." He snatches the keys from me and disappears down the hall. And when he returns, he's got two pill bottles in his hand and a bottle of water in the other. "One's for anxiety, one's for sore muscles. That's all I'll ever give you."

As I accept the pills, I'm fucking ashamed.

I face the floor, filled with self-hatred.

_I was gonna steal from my own father?_

"Aren't you gonna degrade me some more now?" I mutter hoarsely.

He grasps my chin and tilts it up. Studying me, he shakes his head slowly before letting go again. "No. This time, I think you've got that covered on your own." He smacks my cheek then sits down on the couch again.

Subtly—for some reason—I swallow down the pills with some water.

Then I just stand there, not sure what to do.

"Hungry? Tired?" he asks.

I shake my head no. Although, I could go for another popsicle…

But my stomach rolls, as if in protest.

"Well, get comfortable, son. We's got a few more days hea'."

"Oh, Christ—" I clutch my stomach "—just gotta take another shit first."

He laughs while I run down the hall.


	32. Finale 4

**Special thanks to Lisa, Lexi, and Francesca!**

**Also, a reminder to those who have asked: there's a character sheet on my WordPress - link on my profile :) **

* * *

**Grand Finale**

**Chapter 4**

**Translation:**

_Mi sei mancata così tanto, amore mio_ = I missed you so much, my love.

_L'ho preso!_ = I got him!

_Tuo marito ha bisogno di te_ = Your husband needs you.

_Come si dice?_ = How do you say?

_Ottima scelta, Dominic_ = Good choice, Dominic.

**Dominic's POV**

After a total of six days in a cabin outside'a Salt Lake City, I'm filled with trepidation as Dad gets closer and closer to the house I grew up in.

I've been promised that only Felix, Nonno, Joseph, and Anthony know the truth about what I've been doing in Salt Lake. And Dad, obviously. But everyone else just thinks I've been away for a few days to "sober up" after too much partying.

I wouldn't be able to look my mother in the eye if she knew… Same goes for my sisters.

However, Dad also promised that if I so much as go near heavy drugs again, he'll make sure everyone finds out. Plus, I'll never be a made man. Dad was blunt—told me a wiseguy needs to be trusted, and the word of someone ruled by drugs ain't worth a dime.

"You remember what you're gonna tell your mother?" Dad asks as the house comes into view at the end of the street.

"I remember," I mumble, taking out the strawberry Twizzler from my mouth. "I gotta lie to her and tell her I appreciate her running a bulldozer through my apartment." I return the licorice to my mouth and scowl out the window, thinking back on this morning when Dad told me about what Mom's been up to these past few days. Not only has she redecorated my entire place, but I'm getting a motherfucking roommate. It's some relative of my cousin's wife, and she's gonna be there for the kid.

I don't wanna think about it.

"You're also gonna apologize for making her worry," he reminds me. "You've got some groveling coming up, and I'mma make sure you have time."

I sigh heavily, my knee bouncing. It's not that I disagree with Dad; I know I've put Mom and my sisters through a lot, but right now I'm not in the mood to do much of anything that concerns family. I need to take my mind off coke, so I wanna hit the streets, work, get shit done—bring in money.

It's the only distraction I can think of having any kind of effect on me.

"Home, sweet home." Dad pulls into the driveway and kills the engine.

Nervous and fidgety, I step out of the car just as the door to the house is slammed open.

It's my brother—my _furious_ brother—and I steel myself, hearing Mom's shouting in the background.

"Anthony Jasper Maisano!" she screams, following my brother. "Don't!"

I tense up, and Anthony rams me into the side of the car and punches me in the gut.

Oh, Jesus fucking Christ. I double over, gritting my teeth against the pain. In the background, I hear Dad comforting Mom, probably restraining her.

Yanking me up, Anthony pins me to the car and grabs my jaw. His eyes burn with anger, but it's the tears welling up that cause my own eyes to tear.

He leans in close and speaks quietly in my ear. "Put us through this again and I'll fucking kill you."

I guess I didn't put only my sisters through hell. Anthony, too.

He squeezes my neck with his free hand and presses his forehead to mine. "Are we clear, little brother?"

"Yeah," I choke out.

"Back off, Anthony," I hear Elisa grit out.

Anthony releases me, and I suck in a shaky breath, but before I can even let it out, my older sister steps forward and slaps me across the face.

"You fucking scared me!" she cries.

"Shit." I blink and cup my cheek.

"_Elisa_!" Mom shouts.

Fire spreads over my skin, the pain prickling and stinging like a son of a bitch. At this point, I'm pretty sure Julia's gonna take a swing at me, too, but when she runs out, she just throws herself at me and cries against my chest.

"I'm so mad at'chu," Elisa whispers furiously, but she seems to swallow that fury down when she's next to hug me.

I'm fucking overwhelmed.

And guilt-ridden.

**Junior's POV**

Hugging Isabella to me, I rest my cheek on the top of her head and watch as Anthony is the last to join in on the group hug ten feet away from us. My wife weeps silently against my chest, but she's got her head tilted enough so I know she's witnessing the same thing I am.

If Dominic ever doubted his siblings' feelings, it's gone now.

Maybe now he realizes that the entire family suffers when he insists on being a fucking idiot.

"Why do they have to hit each other?" Isabella whimpers, hugging my middle. "Couldn't they go straight for the hug?"

I clear my throat and blink back my emotions, then kiss Isabella on the forehead and tilt up her face. Christ, how I've missed her. "So beautiful." I brush my thumbs under her eyes. "And they needed to get that anger out," I answer as my eyes take in every little inch of her face.

The wife is one of those people who only gets more beautiful with age. Her skin is smooth and soft, some laugh lines the only evidence of being over forty. There's still a lot of youth in her eyes. In a way, she makes _me_ feel younger. She's always active, always meticulous about her appearance, and always ready to play hostess.

"They could've yelled some," she mutters, frowning.

I smile and smooth out that frown with a finger. "I think this worked out pretty good. A punch or a slap in the face is easier to get over than weeks of letting it stew. You think Dominic would've been able to handle a week's silent treatment from Elisa?" I cock a brow, knowing the answer is a resounding no. But Isabella's still about to argue, so I shut her up. Weaving my fingers through her long hair, I dip down and kiss her deeply. "_Mi sei mancata così tanto, amore mio_."

She melts at that. "I missed you, too, _ciccino_. More than I can say." She hums contentedly, peering up at me with dazed eyes. I've still fucking got it—I still have that effect on her. "Anything I can do for you?"

Oh, a thing or two. "Your husband's hungry." Dominic and I have lived off of microwave dinners and takeout for a week. It blew. "We's got some laundry, too." I grimace, glad I threw away all the clothes that Dominic shit himself in. Mostly boxers, though, but I also threw away shirts with vomit. Jesus, detox should be enough to keep people away from growing addicted. But I know I have to keep an eye on Dominic for a while to come. "And tonight…" I nip at her nose, her jaw, her lips. "I want you to show me how much you missed me."

"That can definitely be arranged." She smiles seductively.

"_Madonn'_." Backing away, I adjust my cock in my tracksuit pants. "I'mma take a shower. Then I want food." With a kiss to her forehead, I add, "Go say hey to Dominic—I can see you're itching to." Then I walk inside, figuring my other kids will detach themselves from Dominic when they're ready, and that's when it's my turn. 'Cause I've missed all of them. It's rare I go a day without seeing them, Elisa being the only exception since she lives in Henderson.

**Dominic's POV**

After a while, Anthony ushers Elisa and Julia back inside the house, and then I have my mom squeezing the shit outta my midsection.

"Please don't scare us like that again, _topolino_." She starts crying.

I kiss the top of her head and screw my eyes shut. "I'm sorry, Mom," I mumble. "I didn't mean to worry you." It's the truth. I had no idea this was a big deal.

"I know I worry for nothing—" she lifts her head, sniffles, and wipes at her cheeks "—but this is fucking serious!" Now there's fire in her eyes and she waves a fist at me; only, any trace of anger is gone a moment later. "Is it the wine?" she whispers. "And you do love your 7 and 7."

"Um." I squint, considering, then nod slowly. "Yeah…but I'll be careful. I just needed to cool off for a few days. I'm fine." Booze has never been a vice for me.

Ma sighs and hugs me again. "I'm glad to have you home, baby. I love you so much."

I swallow hard. "Love you, too."

"Okay." She does her mom stuff: lets out a breath, checks her makeup, and fluffs her hair. "I'm gonna continue with dinner."

I kinda smile, feeling good right now. "I really do love you, Mom."

"Oh, Dominic." Her bottom lip quivers, but she pulls herself together and smiles. "My precious boy, I love you too." She pats my cheek, then grabs my hand. "Come on. Let's go inside. Wait—" She points to the Twizzler I dropped on the ground when Anthony rammed into me. "Yours?"

I pick it up and stash it in my pocket to throw out later, not in the mood to explain my sudden sweet tooth. Dad told me Alec was the same after he went through detox. He craved sugar.

"Yeah." I clear my throat, looking toward the door. "So, uh…" Now that we're heading inside, the next problem hits me. "Is the kid in there?"

Dad has told me some stuff about her, but it's hard to hear. It's hard to accept that she's…mine. Or whatever.

Mom gives me a flat stare. "You mean Allegra? No, she's with Gabriella. Or did you mean TJ? Yeah, he's inside napping."

Letting out a frustrated breath, I scrub a hand down my face. "You know that's not who I'm talking about."

"Hmm, no, I can't say I know."

"The girl, a'ight?" I say irritably. "Lia?"

"Oooohhh." She bobs her head, fucking with me. "Now I remember. But no. She's not here. She's at your place." That said, she walks inside.

I'm left confused, agitated, and…some other feeling I can't name. "Is that so wise?!" I shout after her, following. "She's what, a year old?"

"Ten months," she calls over her shoulder. "And she's not alone! _Fuckin' obviously_." The last words are muttered as she disappears into the kitchen.

Right. The roommate. _Madonn'_, parts of my life really suck.

"Anthony Junior, get back here!" I hear my brother yell from the living room. "TJ! Listen to Daddy!"

"Unca Dom! Unca Dom!" TJ comes running out in the foyer, only wearing a diaper and a pajama top. His hair is all messed up from sleep. "Unca Dom!"

"_L'ho preso!_" I holler as TJ crashes into my leg. "How ya doin', kid?"

He grins up at me as I ruffle his hair. "Hi!"

I chuckle and pick him up, then instantly feel weird, though I don't show it. But as I carry him back to the living room, all I can think is how natural this is, yet I can barely think one single thought about that girl…about Lia…without freaking out or feeling like I need to bolt.

Being an uncle doesn't really come with responsibilities, though. Being a father? Forget about it. I mean, TJ…I'm not even his godfather. Frankie and Elisa are. They're godparents to Allegra, too.

Anthony and Frankie may not be close anymore, but it's not like there's a rift. Job and lack of time have separated them—that's it. Besides, there are few in our family—with our family values—that Anthony would trust with his kids. Frankie happens to be one of the few.

"Daddy!" TJ flails in my arms as we enter the living room. "Unca Dom's hea'!"

Letting him down to the floor, he runs to the couch where my brother and little sister are seated. Elisa's probably in the kitchen helping Mom.

Anthony chuckles and picks up my little nephew. "I know, baby."

With a groan, I sit down in a chair, and I feel like I'm older than Nonno. At the same time, I can't shake feelings of agitation and unease.

**Junior's POV**

"Isabella!" I shout, standing in our closet. Running the towel over my dick and balls, I pick out a pair of briefs, sweatpants, a wife-beater, and a robe that's hanging on the inside of the door. But I don't put any of it on just yet.

I have tonight off to spend some time with my family, watch a few of my shows that Isabella's taped for me, and then eventually push my kids out the door so Daddy can get some action.

_Julia can hide upstairs._

"What's up, _ciccino_?" The wife enters the bedroom and then appears in the doorway to the closet.

"This should be." I point to my cock. Grinning, I pull her close and nibble on her ear. "Can you blow me?" I really fucking need it. Plus, it'll give me plenty of time to regroup for later when we're alone.

"Juniuh," she laughs. "Dinner's almost done."

I ignore that and cup her face, staring at her gorgeous face. "God—I missed you." I crash my mouth to hers and let my hands slide down her body, down the soft material of her red dress. It's one of those wrap kind of dresses, so I know if I just untie that shit around her waist, I'll have her naked, not counting bra, panties, and thigh highs. And heels. God, there's an image.

Unfortunately, we don't have time for that right now. Just something quick.

"Come on, _bell'uccellino_." I drag my teeth over her bottom lip and rub my semi-hard cock against her belly. "_Tuo marito ha bisogno di te_." Palming her big tits, I groan into the kiss, knowing I'm just seconds away from begging.

I don't fucking beg.

"You're impossible," she huffs, then giggles, and there's mirth in her eyes. Breaking the kiss, she gives me a seductive look and drops to her knees. _Madonn'_. I watch hungrily, my fist to my mouth, as she gets me hard with her hands and mouth. "You just couldn't wait, could you?" She hums.

I shake my head no and thread my fingers through her hair.

She sucks me in…

"Christ," I moan, feeling a week's worth of tension surging to my groin. With those soft, luscious lips, it won't take much to unleash it all. "That fuckin' mouth'a yours…" I grunt and thrust gently, wanting deeper. "So good, so good." I caress her hollowed-out cheeks with my thumbs as she takes all of me.

She hums with her nose buried in my crotch. Then those slurpy, wet noises…

"That's my hummingbird," I chuckle, outta breath, and push forward a bit faster now. She's already given me the green light by moving her hands to my ass. I feel her nails digging into my flesh, making me hiss and fuck her mouth harder.

My dick looks good with lipstick stains on it.

Oh yeah, getting it all in there… "Play with my balls, baby," I groan and let my head fall back. A shudder rips down my spine. The feel of my cock sliding along her tongue… "_Cazzo_!" As I take her mouth fast and hard, she cups my balls, squeezes gently, and rolls them in her hand. The skin around them tightens, drawing the sac higher up, and my gut tenses. "Almost," I grit out. I start panting and a couple beads of sweat trickle down my chest. "Oh, yeah." Nearly there, I pull out and stroke myself. "Keep that mouth open."

With a sexy smile that dimples her cheeks, she obeys me and suckles the tip whenever I push forward in my hand. It's all slick from her saliva, and hot, and steel-hard, and about to go off.

And when I finally explode, I groan loudly and watch through hooded eyes as my cock releases on her lips and tongue.

Heat presses to the surface of my skin, making me look all flushed and spent.

Letting out a heavy breath, I grab the towel off the floor and wipe my wife's mouth as she swallows, then I towel off my junk, too, before I pull Isabella off the floor. "C'mea', you." I kiss her fiercely, although not deeply, which always makes her giggle. "Stop that." I chuckle. "That's nasty. I ain't tastin' that shit." Sometimes it can't be helped, but only a woman or a fag would go near that voluntarily.

"Oh, how I love you, my Juniuh." She's amused for some reason. "Take a power nap or something. I'll call you in about fifteen minutes." Then she walks into our bathroom to clean up.

I perv on her as I get dressed, ogling her soft, round ass, and watch her swollen lips in the mirror. She may hide that under lipstick, but I'll know. I'll always know exactly how those cocksucking lips got all puffy.

She winks at me in the mirror and gurgles some mouthwash, to which I laugh and shake my head.

"Think you can kiss me properly now?" she teases after spitting it out. Of course, she's gotta do some more lipstick applying now. Woman can't stand not having her makeup all perfect. Same with her hair.

"You're so fucking cute." I smile and shrug on my blue robe, the terry cloth one Julia gave me for Christmas. "Come here. Lemme feel you up a bit."

**Dominic's POV**

Later, when we're all gathered at the dinner table and Dad's saying grace, it feels weird but not…not wrong. It's just…it hasn't been only us in so long now. Anthony did say he couldn't stay long, and Elisa's gonna drive back out to Henderson soon, but for now it's the immediate family. Mom, Dad, me, and my siblings.

TJ fell asleep again, having woken up from his nap earlier when there was too much shouting.

And as has become common now, Dad's in sweats, a beater, and one of his robes. It's like he won't bother to get dressed when he's home anymore, which I think is pretty funny. I mean, the man has always been all about suits and running that comb of his through his hair. He's always said, "You gotta make respect look good."

"This looks great, hummingbird." Dad's in a good mood as he piles up lasagna on his plate.

"Um, Mom…" Julia shifts in her seat, eyeing all the food. "Where's the rest?"

"The rest?" Mom checks the table, as if wondering if there's something she's forgotten. I doubt it. There's lasagna, salad, drinks, bread, oil with garlic and herbs to dip the bread in, and marinated artichokes. "What do you mean, hon?"

"_Remember_?" She looks flustered and irritated at the same time. "I'm a vegetarian now."

My eyebrows shoot up.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot." Mom bites her lip, frowning at the table. Knowing her, she's probably thinking about what she can cook for Julia; meanwhile…is this a joke?

Anthony rolls his eyes. "_Piccolina_…"

Dad cracks up and slaps the table. "Now, that's funny! That's funny, princess." He pinches her cheek, still chuckling. "That was funny."

Julia flushes with embarrassment and anger. "I wasn't kidding, Daddy. I'm a vegetarian. I don't wanna hurt the animals."

Anthony and I laugh out loud at that. Elisa's pursing her lips to hide her own amusement—she does the lip pursing to show solidarity; I can tell—and Dad cracks up once more.

"It's all right, _topolino_," Mom comforts. "It's just a phase," she tells Dad.

"Well, here." He takes a piece of lettuce from the salad bowl and drops it on Julia's plate. "That's for you, sweetheart. But if you're so against hurting animals, you probably shouldn't eat all their food." Then he points his fork to Mom and says, "You sit down. She's got salad."

Mom sits down at the other head of the table.

"Dad!" Now Julia's _really_ upset. "I went with Mom to the store earlier; I _know_ there're tofu burgers—"

Dad cuts her off, his humor gone. "You eat what we serve in this house! Mom and Elisa have prepared dinner for us—it's what we'll eat. End'a story!" He scoffs and digs into his food. "Fuckin' kids these days." That's the Dad thing, how he talks to himself. He says he's his own best listener. "When I was a kid—"

"I get it!" Julia shouts. "When you was a kid, you's lucky to eat dirt and you thanked Nonna for it! I get it!"

"No shouting at the dinner table!" Pops shouts.

"I love having all'a youse home," Mom says wryly and fills up her wineglass.

I grin to myself and plate up some lasagna.

~oOo~

After dinner and dessert, Dad, Anthony, and I are sitting outside on the patio smoking, and the women are inside cleaning up. Anthony and I stick to cigarettes, but nowadays Dad always goes for a cigar after a meal.

He's turning into Nonno…

"I should get going," Anthony says distractedly. He's watching TJ through the window, who's being chased around in the living room by Elisa. "I'm late. Again."

Dad hums and takes a puff from his cigar. "You've been working around the clock for the past few months. Time for a short break, _tesoro_. How did it go in San Diego?"

I almost forgot. Anthony just got home this morning from a trip that'd been postponed by Zio Alec. Anthony was supposed to leave earlier, but there'd been trouble at the border to Mexico. One of his dealers had been busted, and Anthony was sent down there get the goods from another source. I'm not sure—and I don't ask—but I think he was ordered to clip the dude who got caught, too. I've heard Alec say something about someone down there talking too much.

_Snitches end up in ditches._

"Just an in-and-out." Anthony shrugs and loosens his tie. "And I got too much on my plate to take time off. I'm starting a new housing project in Whitney soon."

That's risky, but my brother knows what he's doing. Las Vegas and Henderson keep getting bigger, but ever since they built the spur route of the I-15, bypassing Whitney, things haven't been great there. Business is slow, and the market is down. However, the land is also cheap, and it's not like Anthony has a lot of expenses.

"What did you do this time?" I ask, tapping my fingers on my thigh. Sitting still isn't really an option anymore.

My brother smirks a little. "We set up a front under a fake name—full credit. It's where all the supplies are coming from. Then cheap labor from Mexico…"

"Good boy." Dad nods in approval. "Still, you should take one weekend off. Take Gabby someplace. Your mother and I will watch TJ and Allegra."

"A'ight. Thanks." Anthony nods slowly. "She's been talking about wanting to visit her mom's family in Philly. And maybe we could hit up AC."

"Atlantic City." Pop snorts. "You need advice on romantic locations. That's where you'll get laid."

"Bring me back some taffy." I smirk.

"I get laid whenever I want." Anthony scowls.

"And you never fail to knock her up," Dad laughs. "Poor girl. She's what, twenty-one? Two kids already. Not even I was that bad."

"There's something wrong wit'chu, Pop." Anthony scoffs. "You keep sayin' you want more grandkids. You've already got three."

I look out over the pool, not comfortable where this convo's going.

Three. It used to be two. Now Lia…

"I love my grandbabies," Dad bitches, "but that doesn't mean I can't feel a little bad for Gabby. But you're right—a few more wouldn't hurt."

"Um, I should probably head home," I say, clearing my throat. I stub out my smoke in the ashtray and bring out a new Twizzler. "Where do I go tomorrow?" I look to Dad since he's my new boss.

"When did Mom say she was coming over?" he asks me.

"Ten." Mom wants to talk to me about the kid. Like…how I should bond with her and shit. I don't fucking know. She's also gonna go over some crap about that broad—Daniela? Whatever. It's getting pretty late now, so I doubt I'll see much of them tonight.

Dad nods. "I have a sit-down at _Stella_ tomorrow. We're gonna talk about whatever's going on in Reno." That's good. I wanna know who's stupid enough to think they can screw us over. "Meet me down at the restaurant at four. If I don't have a job for you, you'll be with me for my poker game." He points. "And you suit up for that shit. _Capisce_? We'll be at the Bellagio—I got a suite. So, none of that…" He waves a hand at my jeans and hoodie.

"I get it, I get it." I roll my eyes.

"_Bene_," he says. "And lose the attitude." He stands up and waves a hand toward the patio door. "I'll walk you out. Your car was delivered here earlier."

"Dad—wait." Anthony jerks his chin. "The fight at the MGM next weekend?"

"Oh, yeah; Nicola's all over that one. Bet on the Russian," Dad says. "The black kid's gonna fold. Go to Nico's bookie. You too, _piccolo_." He nudges me. "Easy money."

I nod. "Okay."

~oOo~

I don't know how long I stand in the entryway of my apartment, just looking into my living room.

It doesn't smell like my place—it doesn't _look_ like it.

_Mom_.

It's pretty dark, but two small lamps by the windows in the living room are enough to show me that everything's new. The light brown carpet in the living room has obviously been cleaned. The drapes—_fucking drapes, man!—_match the fluffy beige rug under the new coffee table. Everything outta fabric is light, beige… Everything outta wood is dark brown, from whatever tree that would be. Two couches…one three-seat, one two-seat…they're black—no, dark blue. Pillows without purpose—dark red, brown, and dark green, ah, no beige. Guess I spoke too soon. But beige blankets. Picture frames on my walls—those walls aren't white anymore. One is some creamy brown; the rest are beige. Fuckin' beige.

A new entertainment center in that same dark wood. New TV. Potted plants and flowers in the windows. A dark red reading chair with a matching ottoman. Okay, so dark colors…and beige.

It's gonna take some getting used to, but…it does feel kinda homey.

Shrugging outta my leather jacket, I hang it on—huh, those weren't there before. There are a bunch of hooks and knobs on the wall for jackets and whatnot. Even down at knee-level, and I realize that's for the kid's clothes.

I kick off my shoes next, not wanting to get anything dirty—which I never had to worry about before. 'Cause everything was dirty then.

To my right is the kitchen, and everything's new there, too. Of course. There's a theme. Stainless steel counters, black-painted cupboards, a fridge and freezer to match the counters, kitchen appliances in red, a table for six in that glossy black. All right, I can accept that. Nothing girly so far.

After taking a Coke from the fully-stocked fridge, I pad in to the living room and eye the photos on the wall above the biggest couch. And she's there. The kid. In several of the photos. Jesus Christ, my mother works fast.

Setting down the soda on the table behind me, I fold my arms across my chest and return to staring at the pictures. There's one where she's sleeping on her belly, and her diapered butt is all up in the air. My mouth quirks up, then I press my lips together and scowl. Moving on. She's laughing in another photo. She's also pointing at something—perhaps at whomever is taking the photo. _Too much. It's too much._ But it's…I mean, it's those eyes—that's why I can't really look away. How can they be so _fucking_ blue? And round. And those chubby cheeks. And hands. And…

I groan and scrub my hands over my face.

_How the hell am I gonna do this?_

"Dominic?"

"Fuck me!" I shout, spinning around. Clutching my heart, I fall down on the couch and stare wide-eyed at the dark form standing in the doorway leading to the bedrooms. "_Jesus_." My heart. As I try to calm down, I squint to see better, but the hallway's lit up now, so I can only see the silhouette of the broad I'll be rooming with.

I see short. I see a narrow waist and curvy hips and stellar tits. Long hair. Some nightgown that ends mid-thigh.

"Can you turn on the lights?" I ask.

She flicks on the spotlights in the ceiling, causing me to wince at the sudden brightness. But just as my eyes adjust, she dims it down a little. And fuck me. Does she do anything else besides babysitting? Are there any other, uh, services?

She's younger than I thought. Fuck, she's gotta be _my_ age.

"You Daniela?" I jerk my chin at her and check out her legs. Very nice. And that little nightgown is some silky number that would look good on my bedroom floor.

"Who else would I be?" she asks with an Italian accent. There's a brow cocked. "Yes. I am Daniela Cicero. Most people call me Dani." Her voice is fucking sexy—soft and warm, yet she's got cockiness in her tone.

"How old are you?" I tilt my head, still checking her out, and I decide that she's definitely on my list now. Gotta get in that.

"I turn eighteen in a couple days." She juts out her chin, as if expecting an argument about her obviously young age.

So, she's a year younger than I am. Well, not really. I turned eighteen last year, but it was December. Whatever. I'm curious as to why my mom would hire someone who's clearly a hot piece of ass. It will be highly distracting for her son, is all I'm saying.

"And you're good with kids," I state as I get off the couch. I approach slowly, kinda watching her like she's my prey. But that's pretty fucking accurate.

"No. I am terrible with children." She rolls those "r"s, which is goddamn hot. "That's why your _mamma_ hired me to take care of Lia."

"A comedian, huh?" I stop in front of her, more than a head taller than she. "What else are you good at?"

"Many things." She smirks up at me. Could it be lust darkening her beautiful eyes? Let's hope so. "I am very good at making men moan, groan, and ah, _come si dice_…whimper?"

I chuckle and reach up to twirl a strand of her hair between my fingers. _Soft_. My not-so-soft dick likes. "Whimper? Pretty girly sound, in my opinion."

"I can show you a trick. Would you like that?" she purrs, and I nod and step even closer. "Would you prefer my knee or hand on your balls?" She smiles seductively.

I lick my lips, close enough to smell her. Something…floral. "Hand. Definitely hand," I murmur huskily. Maybe she needs to work on her English a little.

"_Ottima scelta, Dominic_," she whispers.

I nearly groan at the sound of my name falling from her lips. Just as I'm about to dip down and claim those pouty-looking lips, she slides a hand down my abs and grabs my balls.

Hard.

Mother_fucker_!

Choking on a breath, my eyes bulge out, and the pain fucking cripples me.

"Mistake number one," she hisses, fire in her eyes, "you looked at me like I am another one of your whores. Your sisters have warned me about you."

_Oh, Jesus_. I squeeze my eyes shut and cover her hand with mine, trying to loosen her grip. Doesn't work.

"You'll regret this," I growl.

She does make me whimper. By gripping me harder.

_I'm getting her sexy ass fired tomorrow._

"Mistake number two—" she closes in and speaks into my ear "—you thought it was more important to hit on me than go see your _bambina_."

Then she releases me and walks down the hall, disappearing into her room.

"_Mannaggia_," I groan and cup my junk. Yep. She's definitely fired.

Moaning under my breath at the excruciating pain, I think of what a pleasure it'll be to throw her out in the morning. But I've had enough today—too many punches!—so I stumble down the hall and open the door to my own room, only to freeze in the doorway.

_What the fuck?_

It's all yellow and pink and white. But I quickly see the crib. So, this is the kid's room now. There's also a changing table, toy chests, an armoire, and a rocking chair.

I close the door quickly, quietly, and try the last room. _Mine_. Manly. Nothing frilly. I bet Elisa's helped out. There's a queen-sized bed, two nightstands, a double closet, a TV, and a corner with a desk and a chair. Everything's new. It's all gray, black, white, and blue. Dude colors, thank fuck.

Yet, I don't enter. I hesitate in the doorway and glance over at that other door—the one to the kid's room.

Dropping my forehead to the doorframe, I war with myself.

"Fuck," I mutter. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

In the end, I heave a sigh and sneak into her room, not really knowing what the fuck I'm doing. Still, my feet carry me over to her crib.

I stick my hands into the pockets of my jeans.

I watch the sleeping baby.

She's got her butt in the air again.

Even if there's just a faint nightlight in the window, I see that she's wearing pink. Is that how it's gonna be? Is everything gonna turn pink now? Her pacifier's pink, too. With…I lean over to see better…yeah, with a yellow duck on it.

I'm back to that dilemma; had this been Allegra, I wouldn't've hesitated to touch her, or even pick her up, but now? It's fucking scary.

Taking another step, I squat down so I'm eye-level with her face. Her chubby little hand sticks out through the white wooden bars. Despite being asleep, that hand is fisted, and I slowly reach out and brush a finger over it.

I hold my breath as she lets out a sigh-sounding noise and suckles a bit on her pacifier, but she doesn't move.

I exhale.

How can something so small and innocent be so terrifying?

I really have no clue about how this is gonna work out.

_We're here for you_, Mom has said.

_Be a man and do what's right_, Dad has shoved down my throat.

My eyes travel down her little form before settling on her face again.

"So…you're my kid, huh?" I say quietly.


	33. Finale 5

**Special thanks to Lisa, Lexi, and Francesca!**

* * *

**Grand Finale**

**Chapter 5**

**Translation:**

_Cucciolina_ = Little puppy (term of endearment)

_Bravo ragazzo_ = Good boy.

_Vuol dire che hai le palle, cara = _Means you got balls, hon.

**Dominic's POV**

"What the fuck do you mean, I can't fire her?" I whisper-shout into the phone. With the cordless to my ear, I peer out of my bedroom and hear that Daniela broad and the kid in the living room. Or the kitchen. "She's gotta go, sis." I close the door again and walk over to sit down on my bed. Dad said four o'clock—that I was gonna meet him downstairs at four o'clock; it's only noon, and I'm already losing my mind.

Mom called earlier and said she couldn't make it; she had some shit to take care of with Zia Alice, so I went back to sleep, but now…

_"You just can't,"_ Elisa chuckles.

"Ma won't deny me," I say.

She only giggles. _"I can't stop thinking about it. She actually grabbed you by the—" _Her laughing increases. _"She's perfect! Fucking perfect!"_

So much for turning to my sister for support…

Then again, Elisa and Julia have supposedly warned Dani about my "behavior." Which makes me come off as a manwhore. And…I'm not, really. A few broads here and there don't make me a whore. It just means I know how to have a good time.

"Are you done?" I ask impatiently and pocket my wallet and car keys in my jeans. It reminds me that my dad still has my nine. I have one more, but Anthony's hidden it in Pop's office at _Stella_—along with cash and my fake IDs and passport.

Elisa's still amused. _"You know, I'm gonna drive Nonno into town soon, and Nonna, Esme, and I are going shopping. Is there any way you can call Mom and Dad later when I can be there? 'Cause I'd love to see their reactions when you tell 'em you wanna fire Dani."_

I roll my eyes. "If this is how you support me now, I don't wanna know what you're gonna do when they move to Florida and you've got nothing to do with your time." See, my sister is the golden child in the family right now, 'cause she's always taking care of our grandparents and Esme. But they're all moving to Boca in a few weeks—something Nonno once said he'd never agree to permanently. A few vacations down there have changed his mind, though.

I'm afraid Elisa's gonna become a pain in my ass, especially if she can't even side with me on this Dani bullshit.

_"Oh, haven't you heard?"_ Elisa mentions innocently. _"Mom and Dad hired me to be _Stella's_ new hostess."_

Great. Fucking great. "Awesome…" With a groan, I fall back against the bed and wonder if I should move. I adore my sister, but now she'll be right downstairs. Plus, she'll work with Mario, who's the head chef. I can hear Elisa's giggled "Oh, Mario" already. She becomes a little schoolgirl around her boyfriend.

As if that's not enough, Mario lives in the building across the street. That's close as hell, and Elisa will most likely push Dad's limits and ask if she can spend the nights with Mario. To which Dad will laugh and say, "That was funny. It's not gonna happen, but that was funny, _angioletto_." And Elisa will bitch and play her "I'm twenty-one" card, and Dad will shoot back with, "I paid for your education, I pay for your car, your clothes, your fucking manicures, I'll pay your salary…"

Even with a job, Elisa won't be able to pay for her princess lifestyle. She's stuck. She has to obey our parents. For now.

_"Dee, can I ask you a question?"_

"Shoot," I mutter.

I'm fucking bored. And antsy. Gotta get out…

_"Are you hiding in your room?"_

Fuck. "No," I scoff.

_"You totally are! _Mamma mia_, just go out there and apologize for trying to get into her pants!"_

"Fuck that," I spit out, sitting up again. "And you say it like I'm afraid of her." That couldn't be further from the truth.

_"It's either that, or you're afraid to see Lia,"_ she says softly, knowing me too well. _"Is that it, Dee?"_

Not answering, I look down at my lap.

She sighs. _"Look…I'm not even gonna pretend to understand what you're going through, but I do get that you feel pressured."_ Understatement, sis. _"That said, you should pay attention to the one person who isn't demanding a single thing from you—Lia. Start slow. Start with something small. Eventually, you'll grow into the daddy role. And just ignore Dani for now. Maybe you're pissed off, but I know you, little brother. Your ego's just wounded 'cause one girl shot you down. But you and I both know Mom and Dad won't fire her."_

"Christ," I mumble. "One psychology class and you're suddenly some shrink?" But I know she's right. And I'm not talking about the Daniela crap—although, I fear she's right there, too. That with Lia, though…start small, slow. It's not like the kid knows who I am.

_Yet_.

_"I'mma ignore that and repeat: start with something small. _Now_, Dominic. Leave your room and go to Lia."_

"Fine!" I grit out, aggravated. "_Madonn'_, you're bossy." I shake my head and stand up, planning to do this without thinking shit through. I'll just chicken out. "I'll talk to you later." Snapping the phone shut, I pull a black t-shirt over my head and walk toward the living room.

It's where I find both Dani and Lia—on one of the couches. The kid is playing with some small stuffed animals that make noises when she squeezes them.

Daniela's still too fucking sexy, even without the sinful nightgown she wore last night. Now she's in some snug cotton pants and an equally snug hoodie.

"Very good, _bambina_!" Dani praises. "That's the puppy. Can you find the cat now?"

"Pup-up!" The kid claps her hands. "Pup-up!"

Feeling uncomfortable, I clear my throat to alert them to my presence, and I expect Dani to glare at me, but she doesn't. As if she's got two personalities or last night didn't happen, she offers a dimpled smile before turning back to the kid.

"Lia, Daddy is'a here now."

_Jesus_. That's a hard pill to swallow.

I force a small smile and approach the neighboring couch. "Hey," I say quietly, sitting down.

"Oof, oof!" Lia mimics the sound from the squeeze toy—the puppy—and waves it at me. "Oof, oof!"

"It is her favorite," Dani replies, rolling those "r"s. For being Italian, I've heard that accent too little in my life. "Lia, can you show Daddy the cat now?"

Lia squeezes the puppy again. "Pup-up."

I check my watch, wishing time could go faster.

"This is the cat—the kitten." Dani edges the cat toy closer to Lia. "What does the kitten say?"

"No." Lia shakes her head. She fiddles with the hem of her yellow onesie dress-thing, keeping the puppy close to her. "Oof!"

I snort quietly and lean back.

I guess this is how I'll spend the next few hours—watching Daniela and Lia play with squeeze toys.

"Are you hungry?" Dani bunches her fingers together and looks to me in question, to which I frown, then shrug. She purses her lips and eyes Lia for a bit. "I'll go make'a lunch—you watch Bambina."

There's barely enough time for me to protest before Dani has settled Lia next to me.

"Uh." I stare helplessly as Dani walks outta the living room, leaving me alone with—

"Pup-up!"

I sigh, getting that Dani did this shit on purpose, and shift in my seat a little to face the kid.

_Bitch_. Dani. Not Lia.

"Pup-up?" She tilts her head at me and holds out the toy.

I nod. "Yeah. It's a puppy."

She smiles widely at that, looking all pleased, and then she starts to babble and play with the toy. She mimics the puppy's sounds and walks it down my arm and across my leg, and I…I don't know what to do.

What would I have done if it were Allegra? Probably participate a bit more. Then again, Allegra's only a few months old, so she's easier. All you do is stick a hand in her face, and then she's mesmerized by moving fingers.

Reaching over to the other couch, I grab two other animals—one snake and one bear—and put them between us.

Lia studies them curiously, then looks up to me with those big blue eyes. "Pup-up, oof."

"This is a snake." I hand her the furry animal. "Squeeze it." I do it for her, and I wonder why anyone would give a baby rattlesnake to a kid. "Now, you do it."

Lia grabs the snake and squeezes, eventually trying out the noise for herself. That's also around the same time she crawls up onto my lap, like it's a natural thing. But it's not. It causes me to freeze, and the first thought that jumps at me is that I'm gonna hurt her. I don't fucking know why.

"No pup-up." She shakes her head and looks to me in confirmation.

"That's right—no puppy. It's a snake," I say, squeezing the toy once more. Lia mimics it and makes a long "th" sound, unable to say "sss," which I find kinda cute. Well, it's cute until it morphs into a farting sound and I get spit all over me. "Okay, that's enough," I chuckle and return the puppy to her. "I think this is the best one for you." _The safest._

"Oof, oof!" She laughs.

While she continues to play and talk in her own language, I sorta just watch her, wondering where the resemblance is. Mom said Lia's a girl version of me when I was little, aside from the eyes, but I don't know.

According to the digging Dad's done, Lia is half-Italian, from me, and from her birthmother, she's part Puerto Rican and part Norwegian. Re-fucking-gardless, she's a cute kid. Li'l chubby with the blue eyes. She doesn't have a _lot_ of hair, but what she's got is dark and curly. And soft. Really damn soft. I trace a couple ringlets with a finger, and Lia giggles, places her hands on her head, and moves away.

"No!" She smiles and shakes her head, flashing two dimples.

"No?" The corners of my mouth slant up. "You don't like people touching your hair?"

She nods, probably having no clue about what I asked. Then she sticks the puppy in my face and tries to sound like it again. And again. And again.

I huff a chuckle. "You're more like a puppy than the puppy is." She babbles some more, and I sigh, nodding. "Uh-huh. Sure." I get it. She likes the fucking puppy. "_Cucciolina_—that's you." I tug on one of her locks, earning me another giggled "No!"

~oOo~

Dani can cook.

In just half an hour or something, she threw together some leftover lamb stew, rice, a salad, and little baguettes with garlic butter. All of which I'm devouring at the kitchen table right now. While avoiding Dani's stare.

I can feel it.

She's feeding Lia, but her eyes are on me.

"What?" I snap eventually. "I got food on my face or somethin'?"

She just smirks a little and focuses on Lia.

Earlier, Dani had announced it was lunch, and at the time, I'd been on my back trying to watch some TV, and Lia had been sitting on my stomach. Apparently that's some big deal. Jesus Christ.

"There is hope for you yet, Dominic," she says after a while. "You were very sweet in there."

I scratch my eyebrow with my middle finger.

"You are as mature as my youngest brother," she comments dryly. "He is seven—" Her bullshit is cut off by a knock on the door.

I motion for her to be quiet and move toward the hallway, and since I don't have a piece, I open the small closet there and grab my crowbar.

"Who is it?" I ask, racking my brain. These days, it's most likely someone in my family, but in the past, I rarely got visitors. My home is private—my personal space; I don't invite people over. Period.

_"It's the Crocodile Hunter."_ No, it's my fucking father.

Returning the crowbar to its place, I open the door and let him in.

Dressed in a tailored suit—a far cry from his recent obsession with bathrobes—he steps inside and runs a comb through his hair. The contrast between the dark brown and the silver is made more pronounced by the gel. "How you doin', _piccolo_?" He kisses my cheek then grabs my jaw, probably looking to see if I'm high. I smirk wryly, to which he chuckles and gives my cheek a slap. "_Bravo ragazzo_."

"Checkin' up on me?"

"Yeah," he says bluntly. "And Nonno's late. Plus, I wanna see Lia."

I nod awkwardly and look down the hall. "Um, I spoke to Elisa. She's driving Nonno. Come on." I head back to the kitchen with Dad in tow. "You hungry?"

"Always," Dad says, "but we're eating downstairs soon. I like this—your kitchen. Don't forget to thank your mother, maybe buy her something. Ah—you must be Daniela." He reaches out to shake her hand just as she stands up. "My wife and nephew have told me a lot about'chu."

Oh, I bet Nico's been raving about this one. He may love Gina, but he loves to appreciate other women's beauty, too.

"It is an honor to meet you, Mr. Maisano," Dani says politely and does a little head curtsy. "Would you like some coffee, at least?"

"I would. _Grazie_." Dad sits down next to Lia, and Dani starts clearing the table. "How's my little grandkid?" He grasps Lia's hands and kisses them, making her giggle and bounce in her highchair. "Yeah, all's right now that Nonno's hea'." He grins. "I heard I get to watch you this weekend."

I raise a brow and take my seat. "That's news to me."

Dad nods and leans back in his chair. "Your mother told me this morning."

"I called her," Dani informs me while fiddling with the coffeemaker. "Gina is taking me out for a birthday lunch, and then I have a date."

_Really_. For some reason, my gut tightens and I become irritated. "I thought your job was taking care of Lia."

Dad gives me a bitchy look; he's about to say something, but Dani beats him to it. "I have my own life, too, Dominic. Don't worry your pretty little head about it."

I glare at her back.

"OH!" Dad busts out laughing. "I like this one." He slaps my shoulder. "And now I realize why your mother hired her."

My glare morphs into a scowl as I face him. "Why's that?"

"She reminds me of someone," he says, picking up Lia. He settles her in his lap and wipes her mouth with her bib before taking that off. "Someone with a brass pair."

"Brass pair?" Dani questions with a curious expression. "I do not know that phrase."

Dad winks at her. "_Vuol dire che hai le palle, cara_. Don't let my son fuck wit'chu." He wags a finger at her.

I roll my eyes and pull out a Twizzler from my pocket. "Whatever." Ignoring my dad, I eye Dani as she prepares the coffee, and I can't help but wonder—I mean… "Didn't you just move here?" Like, right after New Year's or something.

"Huh?" She turns to me. "Me? Yes."

I nod and smirk. "And you've already got yourself a date? Fast work."

"Dominic," Dad snaps.

I put on an innocent expression and hold up my palms. "Just sayin'." With a grin to Dani, I bite off a piece of licorice and let my silence speak for itself.

"If I want a boy, I promise I will come to you," Dani says with her own smirk, much to my fury. "In the meantime, I will enjoy a nice dinner with the _man_ who asked me out when I was at the grocery store yesterday."

"Oh, trust me, sweetheart," I chuckle, "I'm _all_ man."

"That's true." Dad nods, looking amused. "I saw his widdle dick when he was in diapers." He wiggles his pinky.

Dani giggles.

"For fuck's sake!" I fume.

His smile turns dark as he faces me. "Or how about a few days ago when you couldn't stop shitti—"

"Enough, Dad," I grit out.

He glares at me, his expression saying everything. I get it. He wants me to wise up, to stop harassing Daniela—and he wants to fucking emasculate me some more.

I stare back, 'cause as much as I respect him, he has no right to come into my home and run my life. Unlike my sister, I pay for everything I own—Mom's redecorating notwithstanding. I make my own money; I decide what to do with my life.

"One day you will realize why I'm doing this," he says quietly before breaking the stare.

I stew in silence for a bit as Dani serves coffee and puts a plate of cookies on the table, and Dad is busy being Nonno.

"Pup-up," Lia says, cupping her cheeks. _Cute_. "Pup-up?"

Dad looks confused, so I mutter, "I'll get it," and head to the living room. Once there, I grab the furry squeeze toy and return to the kitchen. At that point, Dad is playing protector and asking Dani if Nico and Gina know about the dude she's going out with. No, she answers; they don't know. So, Dad requests a name and phone number.

"Just to be safe," he says. "I'll run a check on him." But what he really wants to say is that girls Dani's age are too young to go out.

Since he's not her fucking father, he can't.

"Here you go, _cucciolina_." I'm about to hand Lia the puppy, but she raises her arms to be picked up. Dropping my Twizzler on the table, I comply and sit down with her on my lap.

She starts babbling and playing with the toy, occupied for the moment, so I lean back a little and take a sip of my coffee.

"What?" I notice that both Dad and Daniela are staring.

"Nothing," Dani says quickly, only to busy herself filling the dishwasher.

Dad purses his lips, sorta like Elisa did yesterday to hide her amusement when Julia came outta the closet as a fucking vegetarian. "Nothing," he eventually says and goes for his coffee. "About that guy, Daniela?"

"_Certamente_." Dani grabs a small notepad near the microwave and jots something down. "His name. I have his number in my purse." She walks to the hallway and says, "I appreciate your concern, Mr. Maisano, but he seemed very nice. New to Las Vegas—like me. He said he's, um, an entrepreneur? Is that the word?" She says something else, something about how fucking nice he is—a few years older than her, blah, blah, blah…but it doesn't matter.

'Cause there's no way she's going out with him.

Dad silently slips me the note with the guy's name and raises a brow at me.

_Emilio Malletta._

"You think it's him?" I ask, keeping my voice low.

It's been years; I was just a little shit, but I obviously remember the Mallettas from Jersey. Our families used to be close, but then there was a rift between Vinny, the old Jersey boss, and Felix. It involved the Chicago Outfit and the New York family. Anyway, Emilio is Vinny's son. And I frown, 'cause…he's not a "few" years older than Dani. He's getting close to thirty, for Christ's sake.

"I had a suspicion before I came here," Dad says, just as quiet. "Carmine, Nico's guy?" I nod. "Yeah, he said he's been hearing Emilio's name for a couple weeks now. Mainly outta Reno."

"Shit," I mutter as Dani reenters the kitchen. Absently letting Lia play with my hand, I study Daniela while she hands over Emilio's number to Dad. He plays the part of a protective adult, just wanting to make sure she goes on a date with a good guy, but now I know better.

"Can you give us some privacy, hon?" Dad looks to Dani.

She nods. "Of course." She turns to me. "Do you want me to take Bambina?"

"Um." I look down at the baby girl who's oblivious to what's going on. "I…yeah, sure." I clear my throat and hand her over.

As soon as they gone, I walk over to the stove and switch on the fan above it. Then I pull out my smokes and lean back against a counter as I light one up. I toss them to Dad once I'm done, and he sparks one up, too.

"You think it's Jersey?" I ask quietly.

He taps his temple. "Makes sense if it is. We don't know yet, but we'll get our answers." He takes a sip of coffee. "If you're smart, you don't invade a country. You move in slowly and take one piece at a time."

I nod slowly, thinking ahead. I hope it means more work for me, 'cause I can already feel myself calming down. With adrenaline surging inside me, I feel centered and focused instead of jumpy. It takes my mind off coke, most importantly.

"They haven't really taken anything, though." I flick some ash into the sink and rub my jaw. "They've messed with shipments and made some things more difficult, but…"

"They got us all on edge." He shrugs. "While we're running around wondering who's fucking things up, they'll move in."

That can't be all there is. "Then why the hell would Emilio announce himself like that?"

"To see how close he can get? If they're cocky enough…" He chuckles darkly. "It'd be like sending a message."

I hum, wondering if there could be something else. I mean, this is Jersey. Since when did they have reason to be cocky? It's a small outfit—maybe not as small as ours, but New York's got them by the balls. Plus, they're always at war. Aside from being owned by the Misone Family in New York, Jersey's gotta worry about Philly and Boston, too.

"Could they be desperate to branch out?" I ask.

Dad considers it for a bit, then nods pensively. "Could be. And Battaglia's greedier than Vinny ever was."

"That's the new boss in Jersey, right?" We don't hear from Jersey a lot, so it's not like I remember all their names. But I do know Vinny's retired, and he left the big seat to his nephew—his sister's son, I think. Now they're the Battaglia Family.

"Yeah. Phil Battaglia," Dad answers, tapping the lighter against the table. He blows out a breath. "If it is Jersey, we'll have to be prepared for a war." His eyes meet mine. "You ready to get your feet wet?"

I smirk. "My feet are pretty wet already, thank you very much." Last year, Anthony brought me along on one of his trips outta town, and I clipped a motherfucker who was trying to scam Zio Alec. Of course, Dad knows this.

"I meant more than that, baby," he murmurs. "You know how your brother got his button. End up on top in a shitstorm."

Like I could forget. I have a scar from a bullet to go along with the memory that led to his getting off the streets. He became Dad—always in a suit, and I think we were both born with trigger-happy fingers thanks to our father.

The only difference between me and my brother is that I like to get creative. He's all for swiftness—I like to have fun.

"You think there will be a war?" I arch a brow at him. As much as I want to be a made man—and I fucking do—there are girls in my life I feel protective of. Mom, my sisters…and now Lia, I guess. Dani? Eh, maybe she's my responsibility, anyway. But whatever. It's always easier to take on a fight on somebody else's turf. If the fight comes to you, there's a bigger risk of an innocent getting caught in the crossfire.

"_Some_ shit will go down, that's for sure." He finishes his coffee. "Whether it's attack or cleanup…time will tell. We'll have to bring in New York, too. We have them on our side. Jersey's got a lotta balls to even try."

Yeah, by coming here, Jersey's basically going against New York. We have the Misone Family's protection because some of our money goes into their pockets. It's how it is. The last thing Marcus Misone wants is for Jersey to cut his pay.

I suppose there will be a sit-down first, which will most likely take place in New York—neutral territory.

But that's getting ahead of ourselves…

"What about this Emilio shit?" There's no way Dani can go out with that motherfucker.

"I'm leaving that to you, kid." He slaps the table and stands up, buttoning his suit jacket. "We can only guess he's looking for attention, and we're gonna want a tail on him."

"We're gonna let Daniela go?" I ask incredulously.

He closes the distance and squeezes my shoulder. "How else will we find him?"

_Fuck_.

"And before then, I want you in Reno," he tells me. "You'll be rolling with Mario and Francis. And here—" He reaches behind him and pulls out a nine, my nine, from his waistband. "Keep an ear out for the Four Seasons." He shrugs. "Check with hustlers, fuckin' whores, no matta'. Shouldn't be too hard to get info. You follow?"

"Yes, sir." I nod and tuck my piece into my jeans. "Um—Four Seasons?"

"Jersey Boys." He grins a little. "They talk like men, but can they walk like 'em?"

I stare at him. "What the hell are you talking about?"

His grin is replaced by a scowl. "Eh, fuckin' kids these days." Always talking to himself… "You don't know good music even if it walked up and smacked you in the head." He waves it off and cups my cheek. "No matta'. Reno: if I hear about you doing shit you shouldn't be doing…" I hear the threat—loud and clear. I nod again, not about to fuck up. "Okay. Give Lia a kiss from me. I'll see myself out."

**Junior's POV**

On Friday night, I would rather get comfortable on the couch with the wife and watch some Discovery Channel, but instead I'm in a suit, waiting for Elisa and Mario to come over for dinner.

Julia's having a sleepover with a couple girlfriends, so she's not home.

Seeing my angel is one thing, but I know Mario. He's tried to approach me a few times lately, and I have a feeling he wants to ask for my permission to marry Elisa.

"Why are you pacing so much, _ciccino_?" Isabella asks, bending over to check whatever's in the oven.

I check out her ass and stifle a groan. Instead I lean back against the kitchen island and go with a white lie. "Haven't seen Elisa in a few days. I miss her." What I'm really waiting for is Dominic's call. He should be home any minute since he's been with Mario, and Mario will be here soon.

For the past two days, Dominic, Francis, and Mario have done their best to confirm our suspicion about Jersey tryin'a move in.

Yesterday, Dominic had nothing on Emilio Malletta, but there's been word of Drasso. And John Drasso happens to be the Jersey mob's underboss. I doubt he's here personally, but he's got brothers. Or neither is here but they've got low-men here. Don't matter.

Tomorrow, Lia's nanny, that Daniela girl, is going to dinner with a fucker she probably doesn't know is as old as he is—who knows what lies he fed her. And we'll see how it plays out. Dominic will follow him after the date and see where he ends up.

Felix will then contact Marcus Misone, ask to broker a sit-down, and we'll hopefully straighten this shit out with Battaglia. 'Cause there's no way he's got Misone's blessing to be out here.

I hope it doesn't go so far that I have to send my wife and daughters on a vacation, but…

Then again, if there'll be a sit-down in New York, there's no reason I can't bring Isabella. Hell, Felix will probably bring Gianna, and all the wives can do whatever while we do business.

"You ever heard of Marcus Misone?" I ask, filling a glass of wine. Isabella stiffens slightly, then looks to me over her shoulder. The knife she's been slicing mozzarella with clanks mutedly against the cutting board.

"Of course." She frowns, probably confused about my bringing up work, which I never fucking do. "You mean, um…" She glances around. "From—from the New York Family?" She whispered that last word—so fucking cute.

"It's safe to talk here, hummingbird," I chuckle.

"Right." If she were twenty years younger, she'd probably blush, even though she's never been a blusher. "So…what about him?"

I bring my glass to my mouth. "What do you know about him?" Growing up, the wife moved a lot, but she spent most of her childhood in Brooklyn. Bensonhurst, to be exact, but it wouldn't surprise me if she was in Bay Ridge, too. And with Isabella's father a connected man, it also wouldn't shock me if she knew about Misone and Cullen.

"Well…" She releases a breath and wipes her hands on her apron. "I know he was a cocky little shit back in the day." She huffs a chuckle. "He ran with, um—his friend, they were always together. Cullen." For some reason, she ducks her head. "They were just kids. Raisin a lotta hell, shaking down pizzerias, taking bets…you know. And Cullen used to drive for, um…what was his name…Sposato? Yeah, Anthony Sposato." I nod, having heard of the man. "I didn't know them personally, but I had a few friends who knew them, and I went to school with one of Misone's early girlfriends. That sort of thing." She looks to me quizzically. "Why?"

"Just wondering." I keep it vague for now. "We might visit."

"Oh? Like…like, I'd go with you?"

I chuckle again and pull her close. "That's right. Anthony, too." With the plans Felix has for my oldest, there's no way he's not bringing Anthony along, too. Then it's up to my son if he's bringing Gabby or sends her on vacation with the kids.

"I'd like that." She smiles up at me.

"Me, too." Looking out the kitchen window, I see Mario's car pulling up and Elisa exiting before he can even reach her door. I give Isabella a quick but hard kiss and say, "Elisa's here now."

And ten minutes later, we're done with greetings; Elisa and Isabella tend to dinner, and I take a glass of scotch and bring it to the living room. Mario follows, of course.

Sitting down in a chair, I unbutton my jacket and eye Mario as he sits down on the couch. He's got a small cut across his jaw and a faint bruise under his right eye.

"Trouble today?" I'm a bit amused by how easily I intimidate this kid. Part of me…I mean, I'm mostly just fucking with him. Since I allowed him to date Elisa, he's been on his best behavior. And before then—hell, he's always been on his best behavior. I rarely see him at the clubs, and never with a bunny.

I'm not saying he's a fucking virgin, but there's no way he's been with another broad while he's been with my girl. I'd kill him—and I'd draw it out. He knows it, too.

Thankfully, he's not loyal because he's scared of me. He loves Elisa. It's easy to tell, but I demand more than love. You can't fucking live off of love.

"Nothing too bad," he says, shifting in his seat. He adjusts his tie; like Dominic, he's not used to dressing up. "Can I speak freely, sir?"

I incline my head and take a sip from my drink.

"We found the two guys who, uh, _got in the way_…that time when Dominic and Frankie were working."

I nod in understanding, remembering. It was the day we learned about Lia, and Dominic had been doing a job—hijacking a truck full of booze, and there'd been some trouble. Two idiots from Reno—or is that Jersey?—had tried to get away with the robbery.

"I assume my son is all right." I cock a brow.

He nods quickly. "Oh, yeah. Definitely. He just, uh…got carried away? He's fine, though."

I snort a laugh at that. With how fidgety and antsy Dominic's been, I'm sure he indulged in violence to forget the yak.

"And the guys from Reno?"

He smirks but kills it fast, not comfortable around me. "They're appreciating the desert scenery." From six feet under, I bet. "We took my car, so I dropped Dee off—he's home."

"_Bene_." I've asked Mario to keep an eye on him, so I'm happy to hear that. I've also made sure that Dominic is banned from Twilight and Dawn. "Anything else?"

He nods jerkily and looks over his shoulder—toward the kitchen—and scoots forward in his seat, leaning his elbows on his knees.

This is it. He's gonna ask.

"I, uh…" He clears his throat and wipes his forehead. Straightens. Releases a breath. I withhold a smile. "I want to ask for Elisa's hand in marriage. Sir." I open my mouth to speak, but he's not done. "I love her very much. I will always be loyal to her, and I will take care of her."

I lean back in my seat and cross one leg over the other. Giving it a thought…I'm honestly not doing it to make him squirm. I'm thinking about my daughter here—what she deserves. What she _wants_. Resting my arms on the armrest, I watch the amber drink swirling slowly in the glass.

Is Elisa ready for marriage? Yeah, I think she is. She loves Mario, and she's done being a kid. She's got a college education under her belt, although she's not using it. But I'm fine with that. She says she's excited to start working at _Stella_ as the new hostess. She's mellowed out a lot over the past few years, and while she's still a spoiled princess, she's also genuine, helpful, giving, and loyal. She's been an angel when it comes to my parents and Esme.

Mario…he's a good kid. In his mid-twenties now, only a few years older than Elisa's twenty-one. He's proved to be an excellent chef—head chef, and he runs my wife's kitchen at _Stella_ flawlessly. He's also a good soldier. Like Dominic, he's coming up in rank fast, and I know Felix will give Mario his button when he decides to initiate Dominic.

All that aside…

"No," I answer.

My daughter deserves a husband who can give her a house, not an apartment near _Stella_, and she deserves a husband who's off the streets. Also like my son, Mario is a risk-taker. Fuck it; they're both like me—like I was at that age.

"No?" Mario tries to hide his disappointment.

"That's right." I take a swig from my drink, then add, "You're a good kid, Mario. Just not good enough yet. Come back to me when you can buy her a nice house—_not far from here_—and when you're off the streets."

"I have money saved up—"

"Good." I stand up. "Then it won't be long until we have this discussion again. But for now? We're done." I motion for the dining room. "Time for dinner."


	34. Finale 6

**Special thanks to Lisa, Lexi, and Francesca!**

**An extra long chapter for y'all :)**

* * *

**Grand Finale**

**Chapter 6**

**Translation:**

_Scordatelo_ = Forget it.

_Mi fai male, testa di cazzo! = _That hurt, you dickhead!

_Sono stato chiaro, Daniela? = _Am I making myself clear, Daniela?

**Dominic's POV**

_"Come on, Dominic."_ Dani knocks again.

_Woman, you're killing my morning wood._

"Go away!" I groan into my pillow. Pulling the covers over my head, I try to drown out Dani's knocking and Lia's giggling. It's Saturday—let me fucking rest. Let me sleep in.

After only a few days, I've realized it's hard to say no to Lia; she's fucking cute, but right now, I need to sleep. Without chemicals in my system to keep me alert, I'll get cunty too goddamn fast, though I really don't give a shit about it.

I have more mood swings than my mother and sisters, for fuck's sake. But people will just hafta deal.

_"Lia wants to say hi to Daddy,"_ Dani chuckles on the other side of the door. _"Don't you, _bambina_? You want to say hi to Daddy?"_

_"Hi!"_ Lia shouts. _"Hi, hi, hi!"_

I curse under my breath, surrendering too easily. Dragging my ass outta bed, I pull on a pair of gray sweats, unlock the door, then flop down on the mattress again. But no matter how ready I am to blow a fucking fuse, it's kinda hard not to dig the image. Lying on my stomach, I crack one eye open as Dani walks in with Lia. The kid can't walk on her own, but she can when Dani holds her hands. She's all wobbly and careless and cute.

I might lose my balls if I use the word cute one more time…

"What time is it?" I ask in my morning voice.

Dani checks the clock on my TV in the corner and says, "Nearly eleven."

I close my eyes again and feel the bed dip as she lets Lia crawl over to me.

"Happy birthday, by the way," I yawn. _Someone's eighteen today_.

"_Grazie_," Dani says. "I'll be back with the first-aid kit. Watch her."

"Hi," Lia sings.

"You don't have to do that!" I call after Dani, but she's already gone. With a sigh, I roll to my side and grin sleepily at Lia. "How you doin', kid?" She's holding that friggin' puppy toy of hers, squeezing it for all she's worth. "Why are your cheeks all pink?" I touch one, and she giggles and pulls away. "You've been outside already?" She's only wearing a onesie, a pink one—whatta surprise—but her skin's a little cold, so maybe Dani's just changed her clothes after being out.

Around New Year's, we had a small heat wave rolling in, but lately it's been pretty cold.

"You really fucking like that toy."

She babbles and shakes her head.

When Dani comes back, she rounds the bed and sits down behind me as if she owns the place. There's nothing timid about her whatsoever.

She cooks, cleans, and takes care of Lia like an expert—the way only a woman can—but she's not as demure as one. She doesn't cower away when I get moody, and she doesn't hold grudges, either. She moves on, end of story.

"You don't have to do that," I repeat, even though I do want her hands on me. But it feels weird having her care for me. It's not her job.

Last night when I got back from another day in Reno, she'd taken charge of everything. She'd tended to my cuts and bruises.

It's really nothing, though. This one guy…he knew his minutes were numbered. We'd taken him and his friend out to the desert to finish 'em off, and he'd just dug his own grave—literally. And in a final attempt to get free, he attacked me. Like a bitch on her period, he clawed at my back, and he managed to get one kick in my gut before I hauled him off me.

After that, I made his death painful.

I hiss as Dani swipes a cotton ball with peroxide over my shoulder blades.

"Is my ink okay?" I ask, having not thought about it before now. But if that motherfucker clawed deep enough to ruin my tattoo, I just might drive out to the desert and spit on his grave.

"It is fine," she says softly, and I shiver when her fingers trace my last name on my upper back.

Safe to say, my mom was not amused when she saw it. It was last year—I think it's cool, but my parents don't appreciate body art. Whatever. I like it. My brother thought it was cool, too.

"Fuck," I grit out. The pleasure of her fingers has been replaced with more pain. "That shit stings."

"You big baby," she laughs. "Take it like a man."

_That's fucking it._

Furious, I turn around and push Dani down against the mattress, pinning her with my body.

"I think I've had it with your little quips," I whisper in her ear as I grab her jaw. "A bit more goading and I'll show you just how much of a man I am." Self-disgust rolls through me as I actually get turned on. That shit's just not right. "_Sono stato chiaro, Daniela_?"

She sucks in a breath when I face her, and I don't even know how crazed I look—yet, I'm in full control.

"Yes," she breathes out, eyes widening. They also darken, and she licks her lips. "I understand."

I frown, wondering if I'm reading shit wrong. Her chest heaves rapidly, but instead of being completely stiff under me, she's…I don't know, almost relaxed. And fuck, her soft body feels amazing against mine.

Lia's cooing and babbling clears the haze a little, but I don't move just yet.

"Finish fixing me up," I murmur, brushing my thumb over Dani's bottom lip. "Can you do that?"

She nods, looking oddly content.

_Shouldn't she be screaming and running for the hills?_

"Thank you." I wanna kiss those pouty lips, but I don't. Instead I move off her and return to my previous position so she can patch up the cuts on my back. "C'mea', _cucciolina_." I pull Lia close to me, wanting her to be my distraction as Dani swipes more alcohol over my skin.

"Hi, pup-up," Lia says.

"Hey," I chuckle. "But I'm not pup-up."

_I'm someone else_.

Being someone's father is one thing; I've come to grips with that—sorta. But being someone's daddy? It's different. It's an active role. And I…I have no clue how to get ready—or if you just take the plunge.

"Can you say Daddy, Lia?" Dani asks.

I tense up, though I try not to show it. But I'm pretty sure Dani sees it in my back and shoulders.

"Don't push her," I say quietly.

Dani gives my shoulder a squeeze, as if in comfort. "It is not about pushing. It is just a word she hasn't really heard before now."

I sigh and reach up to poke Lia's nose.

"No!" she giggles.

"Yeah," I chuckle, "it's my nose." Leaning close, I pretend to bite it, to which she lets out squeals of laughter. "Christ, you're fucking cute." I kiss her forehead, only to wince when Dani cleans a particularly sore spot.

"Sorry," she says quickly, "I am almost done."

"It's all right," I mumble.

This is new, ain't it? I mean, usually if I have two girls in bed, it doesn't look like this. But this…fuck, a guy could get used to this.

~oOo~

"You look like someone shot your puppy." I slide into the booth, Frankie already seated across from me. And fucking puppy—like I need more reminders of Lia… I laugh under my breath and focus on Frankie again, who really does look like shit.

My dear dad has banned me from Twilight and Dawn, so we're meeting up at a diner.

He shrugs and eyes the menu.

Tugging down the hood of my sweatshirt, I run a hand through my hair and bring out my smokes. Just as I light one up, a waitress appears, looking annoyed.

"Excuse me, but you can only smoke in the designated area." She points farther down the diner. "This is a family restaurant."

"It's a ratty fucking diner," I laugh and face Frankie. "You had to pick this place? Really?"

"It's close to my apartment," he defends. But I bet my dad's told him to avoid bars when I'm around. "And we eat for free." Which means probably Nico is a li'l guilty of racketeering.

"Sir." The waitress taps her foot impatiently.

I wave her off. "Piss off, sweetheart. I'm in no mood for that shit right now."

"Well, now I ain't eatin' here," Frankie mutters. "She'll spit in our food." He turns to the waitress and points to the coffee by the register. "Get us some coffee, hon. And I'm keeping my eyes on you."

"I think you should leave before I call the—"

Frankie cuts her off. "Do that and you'll have an issue with Alec Maisano."

"It's my uncle's place?" I ask. "Huh." I didn't think that was his thing. Then again, anything to make a buck…

The waitress stomps off with a huff, and I declare her old news and refocus on Frankie.

"So, what's up?" I jerk my chin.

He called me earlier, said he wanted to talk, and since I was bored and Dani brought Lia to her birthday lunch with Gina, I didn't hesitate to leave my place.

He sighs and steals one of my smokes. "I think my dad's on to me."

_Mannaggia_. That can only mean one thing, and if Felix finds out… I wince.

"How would he know?"

Frankie's always been discreet—aside from one time. That's how I found out, and he's lucky I don't give a flying fuck.

There's only one person he's told voluntarily, and that's Elisa.

"After Reno yesterday, I was followed," he replies quietly. "I was on my way to Casey. I shook the tail, but then I went home anyway."

"Damn." I blow out a ring of smoke. "Probably smart you didn't go to Casey, though." I keep my mouth shut as the waitress returns with our coffee, but once she's gone, I ask, "You don't think it's possible it's Jersey?"

He shakes his head and stirs sugar into his coffee. "Pretty sure it was Louie." One of Felix's drivers; Lou's usually the one driving Gianna around.

"So…" I hesitate. "What're you gonna do?"

Truth is, I don't really like talking about this. I'd fuck someone up for wagging a finger in my _face_—don't get me started on what I'd do if that finger was elsewhere. But…to each his own? I know the facts; don't need the details.

Back in '93, Clinton signed that bill or whatever—the "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" for the military. I'm like that. If Frankie wans'ta be with a dude, that's his choice; just keep me out of it.

However, we have parents who were brought up differently. Not that my upbringing encouraged anything like that, but the world has changed. My parents are stuck in the '50s, especially Dad.

Even if Frankie's my mom and dad's godson, they'd treat him like a stranger if they found out he likes both men and women. Well…I'm not sure about Mom, but Dad? Forget about it. And Felix would…I don't even know.

"What choice do I have?" Frankie chuckles, but there's defeat in his tone, and he looks haunted. "Once all this with Jersey blows over, I'll break it off with Casey, and then I'll…" A one-shouldered shrug. "I'll get a wife, a few kids, a house—isn't that what we all do?"

"Is that so bad, though?" I whisper, leaning forward. "You like chicks too, right?"

He clears his throat and looks out the window. "Technically." He nods slowly. "But Casey…" I get it. He loves him.

"A'ight." I nod, uncomfortable, and lean back again.

I wish I had some advice, but I really don't. He's my best friend—him and Elisa—and I'll stand by them no matter what, but I'm at a loss here. There's really nothing that can be done. Unless he skips town and starts a life someplace else. It's all about pros and cons, I guess.

I'm not judging our parents without thinking about it, either. It's just facts. Our dads…come on. We're talking old-school gangsters, Catholics, and traditionalists. The latter is my choice of word; my sister would go as far as to say "chauvinistic bastards." But it's how we grew up, and regardless of how independent Elisa sees herself, she still dreams of being Mario's little housewife and soaks up every piece of advice Mom gives her.

Shit, my own problems are fucking ridiculous in comparison to Frankie's.

I don't envy him.

~oOo~

By the time I get home, Mom is there to pick up Lia.

Dani's getting ready for her _date_. I fucking sneer at that word.

I'm not stupid. I know it's jealousy that tightens my gut.

"Hi, baby," Mom whispers as I enter the living room.

I raise a brow, but then I see Lia napping on the couch next to her, so I get the quiet greeting. "How are you, Ma?" I dip down and kiss her cheek.

"Very good. Sit next to Mommy." She scoots over and barely makes room for me. It'd be better if we were on the bigger couch. "Dani's in the bathroom. She told me about how sweet you've been with Lia." She squeals silently behind her hand before she hugs the shit outta my bicep. "I'm so proud of you, _topolino_."

"Stop making a big deal out of it." I smile even though I'm frustrated—and slightly embarrassed. I don't know why. I just wish people would let it go. "What're you doing?" I point to the Nokia 5190 on her lap.

It's the same one I have. Anthony hooked us up.

"Oh." She grins sheepishly. "You know how your father gets. He doesn't want cell phones in the house, so I keep it in my car and use it when he's not around." She looks a little proud, like she's done something sneaky and feels cool. My mom can be fucking funny sometimes. "And look—I bought a new faceplate." Yeah, it's red now. "Did you know you could change it? Technology today…" She marvels.

"I see you're playing Snake," I chuckle, eyeing the paused game. The snake is about to hit a wall. "Want me to help you out?"

"Would you?" She hands me the phone. "I panicked, so I pressed pause."

While I get her out of that mess, she goes from watching me like a dude watches a football game—as in, not silently or without gestures—to caressing Lia's cheeks, hair, and hands. Mom coos about how cute she is one second, only to whisper-shout, "Don't kill my snake!" the next.

In the end, I have a new record for her.

She actually does a little fist-pump, and she says, "I'm the fucking queen of Snake!" Then she clamps a hand over her mouth, still all gleeful and proud. "Oops. Got a little excited there."

I laugh through my nose. "Definitely the queen, Ma." Draping an arm around her shoulders, I kiss her temple. And that's the moment Dani chooses to appear. _Mother of Christ_. Well, at least she's not dressed like she's begging for a fuck, but it's still provocative. It's a black dress, and while there's no obscene cleavage, it's fairly short, and fuck me, I want those legs wrapped around me as I pound into—

"Oh, that's gorgeous, Dani!" my mom gushes. "Your date is going to love it. You never told me, by the way—what's his name? Where did you meet him—"

"Uh, Mom," I interrupt her, knowing she can't hear Emilio Malletta without raising brows, suspicion, and voice. "You should probably head home, right? I'm sure Dad and Julia are waiting."

Correction: Dad's probably watching the stove at home, wondering if food will magically appear, and Julia's most likely on the phone with her friends.

"You're right, baby." She pats my hand and begins to stand up.

While she fusses over a sleeping Lia, I walk over to Dani.

"Where are you going tonight?" I purposely take a step closer to get in her personal space. There's just something about her that makes me wanna cross lines. I wanna push her—against a wall, out of her comfort zone…

She's not the cocky broad when I loom over her. Still self-assured and confident, but…demure? She also comes off as more tame and eager to please. At the same time, I feel beastly and territorial—so different from the first night when I just wanted fuck the shit out of her. _Once_.

"The Château?" She mentions a restaurant not far from here. "I won't be late. Um." She fidgets with her purse, and if I'm not mistaken, she seems like she wants to say something more. She's hesitating. Stalling.

"Well…" I run my knuckles down her arm, eliciting a shiver from her. "Have fun."

_I'll be watching you._

"Thank you." The light in her eyes dims slightly, as if she's disappointed. That sends a thrill through me, but I also get curious about her game. She's been polite but only like a friend. Unless we're talking about what happened earlier today, and I can't really get that outta my head.

I don't know what's changed, but something has.

~oOo~

After picking up Dani downstairs, Emilio drives them to a French restaurant, and they're both oblivious to me.

Emilio glances around as he ushers her into the restaurant, but I'm safe in Mikey's car—one of the waiters at _Stella_; I asked to borrow his in case Emilio already knew what mine looked like. And I'm pretty sure that Emilio's looking for attention, 'cause he and Dani get a table by a window.

_What wiseguy is stupid enough to do that?_

Bringing out a Twizzler, I get comfortable for a few hours of surveillance. My mind wanders, which isn't always a good thing, but in this matter I'm fucking dying to know. What made Emilio pick Daniela? She's only been in Vegas less than two weeks, and if that motherfucker wanted a real reaction, he could've gone with others.

_Oh yeah? Who? _

I frown.

Elisa's taken, Julia's too young, Gabriella's married, Lucia lives in LA, Felix's daughter—Valentina—lives in St. Louis with her husband…

All right. Never mind.

Eventually I grow bored, so I start text messaging with my brother, although I keep an eye on Dani and Doucheface. Judging by Dani's posture, she's there for dinner, nothing else. Emilio, on the other hand…fuckin' creep. He's leaning on the table, whereas Daniela sits back. He reaches over every now and then to brush hair away from her face or caress her arm.

I grit my teeth.

It puts me on edge like nothing else, and all I want to do is march in there and smash his motherfucking face in.

~oOo~

After a too-long dinner, Emilio takes Dani for ice cream on the Strip, and I grow uneasy when I see a car with Jersey plates parked nearby where Emilio and Dani are currently walking.

Every now and then, the car moves forward, only to idle until the couple has walked farther ahead.

Not only that, but Dani has started looking uncomfortable.

"Call it a fucking night already," I mutter.

A while later, it seems like Emilio and Dani are heading back to his car, and I pick that moment to call my dad's private line in his home office. From the first ring, I mentally count how long it takes him to bitch and whine about being interrupted, and then how he hauls his ass off the couch, probably pausing whatever show on the Discovery Channel he's recorded on the VCR, and stomp into his office—

_"Edward Maisano," _he barks out.

I grin. "Sorry to disturb your love affair with the _Crocodile Hunter_, Dad."

_"For your information, it's a documentary about dinosaurs,"_ he snaps. _"What do you want?"_

I clear my throat and squint toward the parking space where Emilio's car is. "I've got my eye on more than one tourist," I say, speaking in code. "One is having a good time, and the other seems to checking things out."

_"Call Anthony,"_ he advises. _"You're not allowed to have fun if it comes to that." _

Yeah, because I'm not a made man. Anthony is. And while we don't know Emilio's status, it's safe to assume he has his button, at least. That means he's untouchable for me, a low-man—sorta, anyway. I have my own limits, but Dad's all about respecting the rules. Especially if there'll be a sit-down with New York.

_"How's the company faring with the tourists?"_

"Ready to go home," I grumble. Dani is definitely ready to end the date. I can tell.

_"Call your brother,"_ he says again. _"And be safe, for fuck's sake."_

He ends the call.

As Emilio and Dani get in the car, I follow and call Anthony on the way. I explain—in code—that Emilio's got a babysitter, that I might need his help, and to meet me near my place.

I'm pretty sure that throughout our conversation, he was fucking Gabby.

_I bet he knocks her up again_.

Pulling out my last Twizzler, I stick one end in my mouth and maneuver through the night traffic. I don't fucking like having the Jersey car behind me, but if _Stella's_ the next stop, then that fucker won't park too close. Too many of our associates in there.

Turns out I'm right. Emilio makes a turn into the small parking space behind _Stella_; I keep driving 'til I reach the next turn, and the Jersey car continues forward. He might turn around, but he won't go too near the restaurant.

I leave Mikey's car behind at a residents' parking lot, and I jump the fence that takes me to the dark alley behind _Stella_. There's a steel pipe on the ground next to a Dumpster, so I pick that up—just in case—'cause I don't have a silencer on my nine. I also have a knife…

Sticking close to the wall, I near the corner and listen as Emilio walks Dani to…the door, I assume. I can hear their shoes against the asphalt and quiet talking.

"Did I mention you look very pretty tonight?" I hear Emilio say.

I roll my eyes.

_You're gonna have to do better than that, needledick._

Daniela Cicero isn't pretty. She's fucking irresistible.

"You did," Dani answers softly. "So, this is me." She's come to a stop, so I suppose she's at the door. "Thank you for tonight."

There's some shuffling; I grind my teeth together, pretty sure Emilio's trying to make his move.

"It was my pleasure," Emilio murmurs. "Is your roommate—what was his name, Dominic Maisano? Is he home?"

Well, if any blue-eyed idiot thought Emilio was here with good intentions, that oughta do it.

"Um, I think he is home," Dani replies, sounding oddly frustrated. "His car is right over there." Oh, but annoyed or frustrated she sounds even sexier. Those rolling fucking "r"s do it for me. Big time. "You have asked many questions about Dominic's family this evening. Do you know them?"

_Many questions, huh? _

Emilio laughs. "No, pretty girl. I'm just curious." _Go fuck your mutha'_. "Do you know what I'm curious about now?" I peek around the corner just as he cups her cheek.

"Don't you fucking dare," I whisper under my breath.

Fury straightens my spine, and my shoulders tense up with rage.

"I am sorry, but I don't think—" Dani's cut off when Emilio tries to kiss her, though she turns so he gets her cheek. "Thank you, Emilio, but I would like to end our date here."

_There's my good girl._

"Oh, come on." Emilio chuckles and pushes Dani up against a wall, causing me to go completely rigid. "You won't even invite me upstairs—to meet your roommate?"

Soundlessly placing the steel pipe on the ground, I decide to give him ten seconds to let her go before I intervene. I grab my switchblade from my pocket and eject the blade with a push of a small button on the handle.

"Stop it!" Dani says forcefully, and she shoves at him. I tighten the grip on my knife and keep watching them around the corner. "I will scream." She tries to knee him in the junk, but he traps her.

"Do that," he laughs, looking up toward the second floor where I live. "I don't mind some screaming." But before she _can_ scream, he puts his hands on her throat. I see red. "However, you should thank me properly for the date first."

With one hand half-choking her, he uses his free hand to bunch up her dress.

And I figure…_time's up, motherfucker_.

If Emilio doesn't play by the rules, there's no way I'm gonna play nice, either. Button or no fucking button.

Approaching swiftly and silently, I come up behind Emilio and place my knife to his throat. He stiffens. I have a few inches on him, but he's wider. Both in muscle and fat.

"You like your hands around her throat?" I barely recognize my own voice. It's quiet, soft, eerie, yet steely. It takes me a second to realize I've heard my father talk like this. And Anthony. "Let's see how you like my knife to yours." To expose his throat more, I palm his forehead with my free hand and yank back. "Long time, no see, Malletta."

He laughs shakily and raises his hands in surrender. "How you doin', son?"

"Son?" I laugh. "If you want, I can _son_ you all the way back to Jersey."

No wonder they're desperate to leave home, what with Jersey being a state-sized fuckin' Dumpster and all.

"Dani," I say, snapping her outta her frozen state. She sucks in a breath and nods jerkily. Her gaze seems clearer, like she's back to the present. "Do me a favor, sweetheart, and check him for guns."

She nods again and springs to action with shaky fingers.

"You know I'm not alone, right?" Emilio grits out.

I eye the nine Dani drops to the ground, followed by a boot knife. "What makes you think I am?" I ask absently. If Emilio had plans to go further with Dani, it's safe to assume his goon isn't waiting for a specific time to roll up. It's gotta be some other signal.

Dani pats him down thoroughly; if I didn't know better, I'd say she's done it before. Three weapons, a set of car keys, and one cell phone end up on the gravel path near the door. Then she nods at me, silently saying she's done, and I tell her to fetch the pipe for me.

When she returns, I grab the pipe and shove Emilio away from me. He falls on his ass and checks his throat for blood.

"You shoulda' just killed me," he growls, getting to his feet.

I smile. Planning to do just that. "Without having a little fun first?" I widen my arms, and his gaze catches on the steel pipe.

I've pocketed my switchblade. For now.

I stand between him and the exit; he has to pass me, which he won't.

"Dani, take his shit and go upstairs," I say without taking my eyes off Emilio. "I'll be there soon."

"_Scordatelo_," she spits out behind me. "I want to see him get what he deserves."

_Madonn'_.

I guess she's no weakling. "It's not gonna be pretty."

"Good," she says.

I chuckle, digging a broad with a backbone—to some extent.

Emilio glares at me. "You don't wanna kill me, Maisano. It'll be your funeral, too."

I grin sinisterly and begin walking toward him. It gives my body a rush I love—one very similar to what coke would've given me. It's fulfilling, and I feel like a motherfucking king.

"What're you doin' in Vegas?" I ask.

"None'a your _fuckin'_ business," he spits out. He clenches his fists at his sides.

"Now, that's a load'a shit," I laugh. "This is definitely my business."

Sensing that he's running outta time, he takes a couple steps backward and tries to come off as cocky and arrogant.

"You should let the big boys handle this instead," he says. "Why don't you run along and—"

"Why don't you shut the fuck up?" I can't believe this, but he's fucking boring. "Listening to you is worse than counting sheep. You fat fuck." Pissed at him for ruining my buzz, I close in on him a bit faster—

And the instant he eyes his car and decides to make a run for it, relief floods me; maybe this won't suck ass, after all. Adrenaline surges through me once more. _Fuck, yes_. I swing the pipe and throw it at him, one end hitting the side of his face and the other down his ribs.

"You piece'a shit!" he shouts. Murderous rage darkens his eyes, and he's given up on the idea of escaping. He charges toward me, blood oozing down from a cut on his eyebrow, and I smirk, more than ready for him.

"The first one's free." I point to my cheek while the knife in my pocket burns with its reminder.

"Dominic!" Dani exclaims, sounding scandalized. "What are you—"

She doesn't get to finish, 'cause Emilio rams into me, sending us both to the ground, and he delivers a hard punch to my gut. All air leaves my lungs in a quick, painful groan.

Next he grabs me by my throat, cutting off my airways, and speaks quietly in my ear. "As soon as I've broken every bone in your body, I'll let you watch when I fuck Daniela's tight pussy."

Squeezing my eyes shut and gnashing my teeth together to keep from screaming out in pain, I bide my time, knowing he's back to genuine arrogance. He'll make a mistake soon. That's one thing to count on with fucking idiots. They'll screw up.

Blinding pain shoots through me as his fist connects and splits my bottom lip, but it's his last blow.

It's an odd feeling—this icy calm washing over me, combined with a slice of hysteria.

When he goes to punch me again, I roll away enough to dodge his fist; that way, he punches the ground instead, and I love the sound of knuckles crunching on asphalt. Then I'm back, and I let my elbow snap up, cracking his nose. He cries out and cups his nose; he also backs away, which gives me room. Room to send him flying with my boot to his chest.

I jump to my feet. "Only the first one was free, you greedy muthafucka'."

"Use your fucking gun, Dominic!" Dani snarls at me. "I can see it right there!"

_Hot. As. Fuck._

"Nah." I chuckle through a cough and wipe my thumb over the bloodied cut on my lip. "We don't wanna attract a crowd." And my stupid ass forgot the silencer. Pulling down my hoodie to cover the gun stuck down the waistband of my jeans, I come at Emilio again and kick him before he can get up. _He'll never get up again_. He grunts and groans, but I've barely gotten started.

All I see is him, his bloodied face, as I hit him repeatedly. My body's shaking, and I know there's a shitload of pain somewhere, but I can't feel a thing. What I do feel is more and more fury exploding inside me, and the memory of Emilio's hands on Dani's throat only makes it worse.

I kick him, not stopping until I hear the satisfying sound of his ribs breaking under my boot.

I spit on him, calling him a sad excuse for a man of honor.

I stomp my boot down on his crotch, sending him into a fetal position.

Emilio makes a strangled sound, his eyes swollen shut, blood everywhere…and I look down at him, my chest heaving, my hands balled into tight, roughed-up fists.

_He's still breathing._

Pulling out my knife, I eject the blade and squat down next to him. The edges of my vision are blurry, but everything else is crystal clear—as is this bastard's death.

"Have I beaten you too much, or are you just too proud to beg for your life?" I ask quietly, sliding the blade along his cheek. With just a bit of pressure, I slice through the skin, and he chokes out a cry in pain. "Not too proud to cry, I take it." I grin, feeling wild and crazed. Then I lean down to speak in his ear. "Not your best day, is it, _son_?"

That said, I stab him in the chest.

"I think that's enough, little brother." Anthony's voice filters through my haze.

Next I feel his hand on my shoulder, and I let him pull me back. Every movement is robotic, as if…I don't even know. I feel ready to explode. Like…one wrong move and I'll snap. But until that moment, I'm deadly calm.

One glance at my brother and I almost do a double take; it's _him_, but his stance belongs to our dad. Calm and collected—and in a fucking suit.

"I took care of his friend outside," he mentions, giving Emilio a dismissive glance before pulling out his gun. With a silencer on it. He aims it, as much emotion in his eyes as if he were squishing a bug, and pulls the trigger.

My gaze catches on the slowly growing pool of blood by Emilio's head.

_Fuck, yeah._

Then my brother blocks my view. "You okay?" He cups my cheek and studies me. I nod jerkily, but that's about it. He frowns, then focuses on something over my shoulder—Dani, I guess. He asks if she's okay, too, and I hear her quiet _yes_. "You can go upstairs, hon," he says then. "Dominic will join you in a few—" He cuts himself off when he notices how I stiffen. She can't leave. There's just no way. I grit my teeth and clench my fists. "Never mind," he says tightly, studying me again. "Daniela, stay where you are."

I swallow against the scream lodged in my throat; I can't form a fucking sound. If I did…

"Is something wrong with him?" There's worry in Dani's voice.

Anthony sighs. "If you go, he will chase you." Yep. Sounds about right. Just don't ask me why. "You're not fucking okay, Dee," he whispers to me. "Look, I gotta deal with the body, and I don't feel comfortable leaving you alone with her—"

"I'm fine." I force out the quiet words through clenched teeth. "I just—" I close my eyes and shudder. "I need to c-calm down." But I don't know how. "Just gimme a few minutes."

My brother doesn't believe me, but he's shit outta luck. He said it—he has to deal with Emilio, 'cause there's no way I can do it for him. Not right now. I would just do something stupid, like throw his Jersey-stinkin' corpse on the roof of my car and parade him up and down the Strip.

"Regulate your fucking breathing and take a smoke while I get my car," he says irritably and throws me a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Then he starts walking toward the alley between my building and the next, but not before grabbing the shit Dani took from Emilio earlier.

Flicking the lighter, I cup my hand around the flame and spark up my smoke. It fizzles slightly as I pull a deep drag from it. My fingers tremble, and I notice how swollen my knuckles are, not to mention covered in blood.

_Deep breaths, Maisano. _

"Are you all right, Dominic?" Daniela walks closer, and I turn to face her slowly. _Madonn'_. I half-expected her to look afraid, but she doesn't. Instead she's got barely-contained…_something_…in her eyes, something I recognize. It's the same savageness I feel. Her eyes fucking sparkle, revealing a glimpse of an inner fucking freak.

_I would know._

"Yeah," I mutter, bringing my shaking hand to my lips to take another pull from the smoke. "You?"

In my periphery, Anthony's car drives in, and he rolls down his window to ask where Emilio's car is. I point to the Toyota at the end of the lot, and my brother nods. I shift my gaze back to Daniela and wait for her answer.

"Perfectly fine," she says with a tight-lipped smile. _Lying_. She hugs herself, but I see it so clearly; it's not a defensive gesture or outta fear. She's fighting for control.

We both watch as Anthony hauls a body from the trunk of his car to Emilio's—Jersey boy's buddy. And Emilio gets the same treatment.

"I've called Mario," he tells me. "He's on his way."

"Look, I-I can help," I grit out, hating the words. I don't want to leave; I don't know if I physically _can_ leave, but… No, a quick glance at Dani gives me the answer—I can't go. Letting out a frustrated sound, I run a hand through my hair and tug at the ends. "Fuck!" I need to smash something. Get rid of all this adrenaline—

"Relax and just stay where you are, bro." With a grunt, he shoves Emilio's body into the trunk. "I'm nearly done here, anyway. I'll show these fuckers the desert, and Mario's gonna hose down the lot." He eyes the area where Emilio's blood is splattered on the ground.

~oOo~

It takes me two smokes to convince my brother that I'm clear-headed enough to be left alone—and alone with a girl—before he steps off. Which means I'm a better actor than I thought. 'Cause as Dani and I enter my apartment, nothing has changed.

I'm wound up tight, still waiting for that wrong move to set me off.

In the harsh brightness of my hallway, I let my eyes adjust as I kick off my construction boots. I move automatically, getting a black garbage bag for my boots, my hoodie, my t-shirt… I suck my teeth, remembering that my switchblade is still lodged into Emilio's chest.

I fucking loved that knife.

"Oh, Dominic." Daniela gasps and steps toward me. Her fingers ghost over my bruising ribcage, causing my abs to clench. I swallow—having her so close, so _fucking_ close… "That fucking bastard," she whispers. She circles me while I try to remain composed. "I want him to die all over again." She traces the sore flesh of my exposed back, the ink, the lines of my muscles, the redness the gravel on the parking lot probably caused, and down to my spine. To the nine sticking outta my jeans. But she doesn't take it. Instead she comes to my front again, and she grabs my right hand and sucks in a breath at the sight of my knuckles.

"Daniela—" My voice comes out all hoarse. I snatch my hand free and keep them both clenched at my sides. Right now…all I can see is her throat. Where that motherfucker put his hands on her. Roughly.

"I am fine." She curls a hand over her throat. "But we need to clean your wounds—"

I let out a harsh laugh and scrub my hands over my face. "We—we don't gotta do shit." I wave a hand between us. She has to get away from me. Before I blow. "Get outta my sight, sweetheart. Before I…" _I, what?_

"Was your brother correct?" she whispers, her accent thick. "If I go, will you…" She trails off as I shoot her a murderous glare. _Don't fucking tempt me_. She juts out her chin, fire flashing in her eyes.

Then she bolts.

I screw my eyes shut, hating her a fuckload for a moment, before I lose control. Taking off after her, I skid to a halt just as she reaches the door to her room. _Got you_. I spin her around and slam her up against the wall next to the bathroom door.

"You shouldn't have done that." My chest rumbles with an animalistic growl as I pin her with my body. "Unlike before, there's no one around now to save you." Despite the honest threat in my tone, I touch her gently, as if I'm afraid she'll break. Temple to temple, I peer down her lush little body as my fingers trail up her arms, evoking goose bumps and shivers from her. "Playing with me right now…fucking stupid."

Her chest heaves, smashing her tits against my ribcage. "Perhaps I prefer to play with a dose of reality." She speaks in a rush, and I swear I can almost smell her mix of fear and raw fucking lust. _Lust_. Holy shit. "Perhaps I like a little danger."

I groan and force myself to move away from her—_she can't fucking mean that_. I pinch the bridge of my nose.

"Are you not up for it, _mimmino_?" she asks softly, moving closer to the bathroom door. She opens it.

I chuckle darkly and adjust my hardening cock. "You have no idea what I'm capable of."

Her eyes twinkle with something dark and indecent. "I believe I saw plenty tonight." That said, she enters the bathroom.

Keeping each and every muscle in my body locked down, I stare at where she disappeared. My jaw ticks with tension as I fight to reel back at least one inch of control—but the second Daniela tosses out her dress, her bra, her fucking _panties_…all bets are off.

The shower starts running and I enter the bathroom, catching the first sight of Daniela's naked body behind the shower glass. I appreciate the sight so much—_I wanna fucking drown in it_—that I silently thank my mother for having a new shower as well as a bathtub installed.

She keeps her back to me, but she knows I'm here. "Are you just going to watch—"

"Shut the fuck up," I say quietly, placing my nine on the counter. "You're fucking disturbed, you know that?" She has to be, and I'm trying not to like it. _Love_ it. Want it. But I do, and I'm beyond warning her—again. She's had her chances.

"I know." There's no hurt or defeat in her tone. She just…knows.

Sliding open the shower door, I drink in her body. All that hot water running down her soft yet defined curves. _Madonn'_, that ass. Round, naturally tan, with two dimples above it that I wanna lick and drag my dick over.

Without giving a shit about my jeans, I step in under the spray and turn her around. I don't waste the time with words, not yet; I let my hands get what they want instead. Splaying them over her hips, I slowly glide them up her waist. My thumbs trace the barely-there outline of her ribs. Up, up, up, until I cup her big, round tits. Jesus Christ, she's fucking perfect. She shudders, and her breathing hitches. Soon, I see little goose bumps everywhere. Her nipples tighten, and I'm willing to bet my left nut she's wet.

"Am I too…_disturbed_…for you?" And _there_—there's a hint of uncertainty.

I shake my head no and lower my mouth to her tits. "At this point, I'd be disappointed if you were an average girl-next-door kinda broad." I graze my teeth over her right nipple, pinching the other, causing her to moan and arch into me. That's what I'm talking about. "I have no interest in a good, modest girl." Cupping her pussy, I straighten up and tower over her, backing her into the wall. "And as far as I know, no modest girl waxes."

"Oh, fuck you," she chuckles breathlessly as I swirl my thumb around her clit. "Are you an expert on pussy?"

"By the end of this night, I will be an expert on yours." I grab her jaw and crash my mouth to hers, sick of talking. To make her open up for me, I nip at her bottom lip hard enough to earn a gasp from her.

She glares. "_Mi fai male, testa di cazzo_!"

I'd believe she was pissed if she wasn't clawing at me to get closer and get rougher. As we kiss hard and deep, she unbuttons my jeans and pushes them down my hips, including boxer briefs. With a little effort, the heavy, wet fabric soon splashes against the tiled floor.

"Are you going to show me you're all man now?"

I chuckle huskily and grind my cock against her soft stomach. "You beautiful little bitch." Gathering her wrists in one hand, I spin her to face the wall. "You keep that up—keep insulting me and I won't give you a choice." I nuzzle her neck and drag my dick between her ass cheeks. "I'll fuck you whether you want it or not." I want to scare her. Lies outta do it, right? "When you beg me to stop, I'll only fuck you harder."

"Do it," she whispers in a rush. "Take me."

I blink, the world stopping for one second. _Do it_. She wants me to—Christ. She's not fucking around, is she?

If I felt like an animal before, it's got nothing on this. Nudging her legs apart, I guide my cock to her soaked pussy—

She stiffens. "Protection!"

"Fuck!" I growl, slamming my fist to the wall. Pain ricochets through me, but I don't give a fuck. "Are you on the pill?" She nods, about to say something else, though I don't give her the chance. "Good enough for me." With that, I shove my cock deep inside her and groan at the overwhelming pleasure.

Depending on my being too high, drunk, and forgetful…or the condom breaking, resulting in Lia, I can at least say this is the first time I've been inside a girl without a condom when I've been sober. _And it's fucking glorious_.

"_Oh, Dio mio_," she cries, sagging against the wall. I hold her up and begin to fuck her for all I'm worth. Inside, I grind and rotate my hips, then pull out slowly, only to slam back in fast. "Yesss…" She pushes back, wanting more.

I give it to her.

"You better be clean," she whimpers. "I never have sex without a condom."

"You do now, sweetheart." I snort a laugh and reach around her to rub her clit. "Don't worry." I've been tested more than once since I was with What'sherface—Lia's birthmother. "Now, shut up and take my dick."

With the steam from the hot water billowing around us, I surround her as physically as she consumes me in my head. Since she's got one hand on the wall, bracing herself, I don't need to hold on to her hips. So, my dick drills into her tight pussy, one arm is locked around her, right under her tits, and my other hand is on her is stimulating her clit, sometimes my palm, sometimes my fingers.

"You like this, don't you?"

She nods furiously. "_Yes_—oh, yes, yes, yes…"

Problem is, without drugs, I can't last as long. I can already feel all the tension coiling in my gut, slowly spreading to my groin, and it won't be much longer before I come.

"Dominic," she gasps as I roll a nipple between my fingers. Pinching it causes a more violent reaction, so I take a wild guess; she likes a bite of pain. Which just might make her my dream girl.

"I wanna feel you come," I say, breathing heavily into her neck. She clamps down on me, and I groan. "I want that pussy soaking my cock." Hell, it already is. "Dripping—" I move her wet hair to the side and kiss the spot below her ear "—drenching…" I sink my teeth into her flesh and suck.

"Dominic—oh, _cazzo_!"

"That's it," I grunt, hitting deep. Her entire body trembles, close to orgasm, and I pound harder and harder. I pinch, bite, twist, and rub. In return, she reaches back and grabs a fistful of my hair, pulling me impossibly closer to her. I hiss at the sting and dig my fingers into her hip. "Fuck, fuck, fuck…" I gotta be bruising her, but my climax takes over before I can give a shit.

Thrusting jerkily and roughly, my cock pulses with each release, and just as I begin to calm down, Daniela lets out a breathless wail as she comes, too. Her pussy tightens around me so much that another, smaller wave of pleasure rolls through me.

"Mother of Christ, Dani…" I pant and drop my forehead to her shoulder. It's almost too intense—everything crashes down at once. I feel like laughing and crying; I feel like _collapsing_.

And eventually I do. When my knees nearly buckle, I pull Daniela with me down to the floor. The hot water keeps working its way through my sore muscles, and I'm like jelly, resting my back against the wall, Daniela between my legs.

"I can't move," she croaks, resting her head on my collarbone. But she goes against her words when she gently grabs my right hand and inspects it. At least that's what I think she's doing. She's not facing me, and my eyes are closed anyway. "Do you think it is broken?"

I flex my fingers, then wince at the pain. But no, it's not broken. "Nah. Just a little banged up." Opening my eyes again, I lean forward enough to look down her front. And as amazing as her tits are to gawk at, I'm more interested in her throat right now. "Does it hurt?" I murmur, softly brushing my fingers over the darkening bruises. I honestly didn't know that motherfucker had been that rough.

"Only tender," she sighs. "We should get cleaned up."

"Yeah…" But I don't move yet.


	35. Finale 7

**Special thanks to Lisa, Lexi, and Francesca!**

* * *

**Grand Finale**

**Chapter 7**

**Translation:**

_è questo che ti eccita? _is that what arouses you?

_Non è sempre così_ = It's not always.

_Mi farò venire in mente qualcosa_ = I'll figure something out.

**Dominic's POV**

"Fuck, that feels good…" I sigh and close my eyes, letting Dani move the ice pack over my knuckles. "Is there any more bacon?"

"Mmhmm." Still straddling me on my bed, she leans over to the nightstand where a plate of breakfast is. Leftovers, really. We've already eaten. Who knew waking up with Dani would get me breakfast in bed? "Open." She dangles a piece of bacon over my face.

I chuckle and open my mouth, and…oh, yeah. That's the stuff. Funny how crispy bacon tastes even better with a naked broad sitting on me. She stole one of my t-shirts earlier when she left to make breakfast, but I made sure she took it off when she returned. With the sheets pooling around her waist, I shift my hands off her thighs, at which point the ice pack slides down her leg and she gasps at the cold, then I palm those bad boys.

"What is it with you and my breasts?" she giggles.

I shrug and pull her down on me. "I like big tits and I cannot lie?"

I offer a silly grin before I latch onto a nipple and suck it into my mouth. But it's only a matter of seconds before I want more. Last night, she'd been on her way to her own room after our shower, but I corrected that shit. Then I fucked her once more before we crashed, and now I want round three.

Rolling her over, I pin her to the mattress. Then I slip a hand between us and smile into the kiss when I find her wet already.

"Are you not even going to ask me?" She smirks, then squirms when I flick her clit with my thumb.

I shake my head no, having figured out that Daniela doesn't want to give permission for certain things. For being such a strong girl emotionally, there seem to be things she wants taken from her.

"Perhaps I should hurt your balls again." There's amusement in her eyes.

"You won't," I murmur. Gripping the base of my cock, I guide it to her pussy and push in. "_Cazzo_."

Let's just say that when you're used to banging strippers, some of whom have already popped out a kid or two, it's a whole new world to be with someone who…well, what the hell do I know about Dani's past experience? But, regardless, she's tight as fuck. And _slick_.

"What makes you so sure?" She lets out a shaky breath as I begin to move. "_Mannaggia_, you feel so good."

"I think—" I grit my teeth, her pussy feeling too good. "I think you know my intentions have changed. From the first night."

I just don't know what my intentions have changed _into_. No, she's not a simple fuck anymore, but I'm not ready to think beyond tomorrow, either. Hopefully, she doesn't need a goddamn commitment right now. 'Cause I agree with my parents; focus is on Lia. And work. And staying outta trouble—the wrong kind of trouble, that is.

"_Jesus_!" I hiss in pain when Daniela digs her fingernails into my lower back. In response, my cock throbs and leaks inside her, slicking her up further. "Is that it?" I whisper harshly in her ear. "Pain and fear—_è questo che ti eccita_?"

"I'm sorry," she gasps.

"No." I move her hands above her head and tighten my grip. "It was the same last night."

She wanted harder and rougher. I remember the lust in her eyes when I scared her. Eyeing my nine on the nightstand, I smirk and grab it.

"Better?" I place it on her chest, making sure she can feel it aiming at her.

She whimpers, and there's no hiding the rush of pussy juices coating my cock. "I'm sorry," she repeats. I don't want her fucking apologies, though. I find it goddamn sexy. "_Non è sempre così_." She groans as I grind deep into her. "But yesterday…"

"I know." More than she realizes, I know what she's talking about. I've used sex as a physical outlet many times to come down from the kind of high my work sometimes brings me. But for the first time ever, last night gave me sense of satisfaction that went deeper than the physical. It was intense and…I can't even explain it. "Trust me," I murmur against her soft lips, "I know what you're talking about, _tesorina_."

Which makes me a little curious about Daniela's life—what she's been through, how she grew up.

Wanting her to go nuts on me, I grind my pelvis against her clit with each thrust, leaving one hand free to trail the gun on her skin. Her breathing hitches—hell, so does mine—and we both watch how I play with her.

"Fight me," I whisper. "Struggle." I grip her hands even harder than I already was, serving her a little pain, but I don't go near the trigger in case she manages to jostle me. "Just say done or enough—anything that means stop, and I'll stop."

"And if I stay 'stop'?" She moans and digs her head deeper into the pillow.

I graze my teeth along her neck. "I'll continue."

She cries out at that, and I feel her pussy squeezing me.

Fucking her hard as hell, I take whatever I want from her. She pleads for me to stop, but with each _no, no, no, no, please stop_, she also claws at me—wants me closer, wants more.

When I get close, I pull out and move higher up on her body, the gun forgotten.

"Suck it." I fist her hair and yank her toward my dick.

She gasps and opens her mouth right away, eager to suck. And she does it sloppily, greedily, and leaves trails of saliva between us.

"Fuck!" I groan and thrust shallowly. Quick strokes, I fuck her mouth and try to hold back my orgasm. "If you bite, I'll fucking choke you," I warn, wondering if I'm getting a bit too into character.

But Dani seems to go nuts for it, so whatever. I'm still confident I'll stop the second she tells me to; it's all good. She hums and applies more suction, hollowing out those soft cheeks of hers.

"Ah, yeah." I moan, heating up all over. "Now, where should I come?" I pinch her tits, then slide my index finger between them, making a trail down to her belly, her pussy…before I slip it inside. "I think I wanna come right here." I give her pussy a light slap. "Get on all fours."

"No!" She turns her head away. "Stop it!"

I laugh darkly and use force to flip her over. I'm quick to get behind her, and I fist her hair again, then shove my cock back inside her. _Too good, too good, too good. _

"God, you're fucking nasty," I grunt. "I love it." I hammer into her, fucking her into the mattress, and the instant I slip a hand under her to massage her clit, she starts to spasm and tense up. "You're gonna come all over my cock, and…" I chuckle shallowly, "you ever heard of a creampie?"

"Please don't!" she moans breathlessly.

"Shut up!" I growl, panting against her neck. "Shut the fuck up!" With a few more passes over her wet, swollen clit, she falls apart with a hoarse scream.

It's my undoing.

Gritting my teeth, I back up a little and look down. I grip the base of my cock and jack it hard, watching through hooded eyes as the first stream of come lands on her pussy. Then I push the head inside her, still coming, my hand still stroking. It's possessiveness that makes me smear my release all over. Over her clit—I fucking rub it in, soak her—between her pussy lips, inside her, along the crack of her ass.

One final stream trickles down my cock, and I catch sight of some wetness seeping out of Dani's pussy, down her thighs, before I collapse next to her.

"Can't…breathe…" I swallow against the dryness in my throat, my heart racing furiously. Fuck, my lungs are _burning_. "Oh, _Madonn'_…" I throw an arm over my face.

Dani giggles, completely outta breath too, and curls her delectable body around me. "That was…amazing, best ever…"

I won't argue with that. Never. Christ. _Christ_.

"You okay, though?" I pull her even closer, despite not really enjoying the mess between us. But with how fucking rough I was, I gotta make sure…

Uncovering my face, I grasp her chin and make her face me. _Mamma mia_, she's…I have no words. I'm honestly rendered speechless by her beauty right now. It's always there, but…more pronounced now? Her cheeks are all flushed, her eyes bright, her smile glorious…

"More than okay…" She sighs softly and rests her head on my shoulder, her nose brushing against my neck. "Mmm, you smell good, _mimmino_."

I remember hearing her say that last night, too, but that was a first. I may be all but fluent in Italian, but I suppose every generation loses a little of the language. Mom and Dad know more than I do—me and my siblings.

"What does that mean?" Letting her rest on the pillow instead, I prop myself up on my elbow and dip down to kiss her forehead. I linger there, inhaling.

"You've never heard _mimmino_ before?"

I shake my head no, still nuzzling her slightly damp skin. Her hair smells even better. _Fuck_. I might be growing obsessed with her body.

"It is a term of endearment," she murmurs and makes absent circles with her fingers on my chest. "And Mimmo is a common nickname for Dominic in _Italia_."

"Really?" The corners of my mouth slant up. "Here, it's usually Dom." But I've always been Dee to my brother and sisters. I think it was Elisa who thought my name was too difficult to pronounce when she was little, so she just started calling me Dee.

She hums softly, and I trail my fingers down her arm, watching as goose bumps appear.

"What's the plan today?" I wish we could've stayed here in bed a few more hours, but…fuck it, I kinda miss Lia. I clear my throat. "I guess you and my mother came to an agreement?"

"_Si_." She stretches her body and lets out a little groan. I stare like I'm some nut. "She offered to drop off Bambina here, or I could ask to borrow your car so I can drive out and pick her up."

"You're not driving my car, sweetheart," I laugh. "But I can drive—" I grasp her chin again and kiss her lips "—and then we'll order in." Growing up, we rarely had takeout, 'cause Mom's always been picky about food, and Dad only eats what his "hummingbird" has approved. So, as soon as I moved out, I went on a week-long bender—I ordered the works, McDonalds, Wendy's, Taco Bell, fuckin' KFC… "Whattaya say?"

"Fast food?" She scrunches her nose.

"Get the fuck outta hea'," I chuckle and bury my face between her tits. "I love fast food. Don't get started—not you."

"It is not food," she giggles as I motorboat her tits. "Stop it, Dominic!" She laughs harder. "It is an insult to food! And you call yourself Italian?"

"Mmm, but sometimes there's nothing better—" I get her lips again and steal a smooch "—than sinking your teeth into a greasy burger with extra cheese." That settles it; I want a fucking Big Mac today. Or two. "And yo, don't tell me you don't have McDonald's in Italy." I _know_ they do; I've been there. Once in Rome and once in Sicily to visit distant family that my mom still has there. I was just a little shit, but I remember.

"Of course we do." She pokes my stomach and grins. "But we do not have even a tenth of the fast food chains you have here."

"Pity," I say, not really meaning it. I'll always prefer home-cooked, but only my mother has ever been able to actually forbid me to eat takeout. Never again. If I wanna stuff my face with some fried chicken that gets my fingers all greasy, or a burger that's all smashed together and looks nothing like it does in the picture, I fucking will. "Unless you want me to eat fast food every day, you're just gonna hafta cook for me."

"Have I not cooked for you every day already?" She smirks.

I nod, conceding. She has. And she's fucking great at it. "But we're still ordering big, fat burgers today—" I'm cut off by someone knocking on the door—the front door, and I curse. "You stay here, _tesorina_." I jump outta bed and pull on a pair of sweats. I grimace slightly, adjusting my sticky cock, which Dani notices and laughs. "We're showering after I get rid of…whoever." After grabbing my nine off the bed, I leave my room.

"Who is it?" I shout, getting closer to the hallway. The weight of the gun in my hand…now all I can think of is how else to use it—how Dani reacted to it—and I decide to pick up another one soon. One that I'll keep unloaded. 'Cause maybe she digs the danger, but I'm not comfortable going that far again. And fuck, what she doesn't know won't kill her. Let her think the piece is loaded.

_"Joseph,"_ I hear as I reach the door.

Placing my nine on the hallway table, I open the door and raise my brow at the sight of Felix's oldest. _And this cat's our new consiglieri?_ Well, my father still stands closest to Felix, but Joey's got the title now that Nonno is retiring. He's well-educated, a lawyer, and he's ridiculously smart, but my dad trumps him with experience—decades of a gangster's way of thinking.

Anyway, Joey looks like shit. So, I tell him that.

He snorts and enters, loosening his already-crooked tie. Shirt untucked, hair disheveled, eyes glassy…

"You drunk?" I cock a brow.

"I wish." He shakes his head. "Just tired. I've been up all night."

I frown, then jerk my chin toward the kitchen. "Anything I can do for you?"

Once there, I open the fridge and pull out two Cokes. I get the munchies, too, so I snatch the cookie jar next to the microwave and grin a little when I open it to see Ma's oatmeal and chocolate chip. She must've brought them over yesterday.

"After thinking about it all night—yeah, I think you're the only one who can help me." He scrubs his hands over his face. "Fuckin' mess."

I sit down across from him at the table and scratch my chest. "I'm all ears." I'm not used to seeing Joey like this. "Talk to me." Craving a smoke, I'm quick to get a new pack from a cabinet, then I sit down again.

"This will be between you and me," he tells me, eyeing me seriously.

I nod, 'cause…of course. My lips are sealed—unless whatever info threatens anyone who's ranking higher. Or someone in my immediate family.

"I'm serious, Dee. You can't tell anyone. Not your brother, definitely not Junior…"

I narrow my eyes when he pulls out a document from the inner pocket of his suit. "Before you show me…whatever that is—" I wave a hand at the document before I light up a smoke "—is it something my dad _should_ know?"

"It has nothing to do with business," he assures me.

All right. That's all the answer I need. "Then…you've got my word. Uh—" I clear my throat, just remembering, "—just keep your voice down?" I give the direction of my bedroom a pointed glance.

Joey snorts a wry laugh. "Lemme guess. You already test driving the nanny?"

I don't really like how he worded that, but I don't let on. Instead I smile and kiss the tips of my fingers. "_Madonn'_…s'all I'm sayin'."

"Good for you, I guess." He shakes his head. "Anyway, I know I would've been able to trust Anthony with this, too, but there's something you're capable of that he ain't."

He's definitely got my interest.

"Forgery?" He keeps his voice low.

_My one artistic skill._

I nod and take a drag from my smoke. "Go on."

He doesn't say anything else, instead just sliding the rolled-up document to my side of the table.

At first, I don't really know what it is I'm reading, but it dawns on me as Joey says, "It's no secret that there's animosity between Alice and Jasper." Understatement. My uncle got arrested before he and Zia Alice could solve their marital issues. "And Jasper's bitter. After hearing from Nico and Lucia about you and Lia…I don't know, he's trying to paint Alice as a bad wife? Or maybe it's an attempt to justify his cheating?"

The document…it's the results from a paternity test. "Whoa…"

Joey goes on. "Jasper demanded paternity tests on both Sophia and Marissa."

_Whatta douche_. I massage my neck. I mean…if I were that cunty, I could understand running tests on Marissa; she's only four—almost five—years old, and Alice was pregnant with her when my uncle was arrested back in '93. But Sophia? Fuck, she'll be fourteen this year, I think, and as far as I know, Jasper and Alice were solid back then. But what the fuck do I know?

All that aside, I don't get why Jasper would admit to _maybe_ having a wife who's cheated. Old-timers would laugh at him—or shake their heads in pity. 'Cause if a man can't control his own wife, what message does that send out?

"This is only one test, though, right?" I spot Marissa's name on the paper.

"Yeah. Jasper's Sophia's dad…" He pulls out another document, which I presume is Sophia's.

When I read further on the paper before me, however, I see that Jasper's _not_ the father of Marissa. "Holy shit," I whisper, my wide eyes meeting Joey's. "Is this a joke?" Zia Alice cheated on…? _Mannaggia_.

He shakes his head, his lips pressed in a grim line.

"This can't get out, Dominic," he whispers, leaning forward. "Jasper will be released in a couple years, and it doesn't take a genius to figure out that there will be less drama if he comes home to kids who are his. You with me?"

Yeah…

My mother would be torn—heartbroken. Jasper's her brother; she's loyal to him, even if she wouldn't hesitate to kick his ass. It has happened, after all. My father, who despises drama, would bitch up a storm. He'd be torn, too—between comforting Mom and being loyal to Felix, his boss. And Felix…Alice is his little sister. He's protective. At the same time, Alice and Jasper are married, and Alice has basically taken a huge shit all over their marriage by having another man's kid. _Jesus Christ_. I can't even imagine the shame and fury Zio Jasper would feel if this became public.

"You want me to make sure this paternity test has the same result as Sophia's," I state. It's not just a signature to forge. I have to change the results and ensure that the writing looks just like the doctor's. "I'll need an empty form, the same pen the doc used, and—wait." I frown. "Can't you just fake two results? Jasper won't exactly know how the doc's writing looks like."

"That would work if the doctor who performed these tests didn't try to blackmail me." He gives me a look, and I get it: the doc is now six feet under. So, Joey has two choices. Ask another doc for new forms, which would leave traces, or come to me. "The doctor offered to do what I'm asking you to do," he continues. "He had everything in his briefcase, everything I needed."

I smirk and stub out my smoke. "Then he pissed you off by demanding money?"

Joey shrugs. "It was more his fuckin' attitude. No respect. But still, the less people involved…"

"Well, if you have extra forms, you can still fill them out by yourself," I point out.

"With how suspicious Jasper's being?" He raises his brows. "_Madonn'_, it wouldn't shock me if he compared notes. All he'd need is one peek at Lia's results."

"Oh." That surprises me a little. "This was the same doc who did our tests?"

He nods.

"Huh." I sit back and rub my jaw. "A'ight. So, lemme get this straight. Only you and I know about this?" I wave a finger between us, and he nods. "Alice?"

"She doesn't know anything. Jasper wanted to keep her out of it."

Oh, I bet. "And not even Felix?"

"Fuck no," he spits out. "If my father knew—hell, it'd be worse than Junior knowing. I'm doing this to keep the peace in our family. Can I have your word that we'll keep this between us—that we'll take this to our graves?"

"I'm my father's son, Joey," I chuckle and place a hand on my chest. "I don't like drama, either. And since this, as you said, has nothing to do with actual business… Yes, you have my word."

"Good." He looks relieved. "Thank you. We can meet up at a location of your choice if you want."

That's not necessary, but I appreciate his offer. It's respectful. Had he told me to meet at a specific place that he's chosen, a man who didn't trust Joseph would get suspicious. After all, this is just another matter where the less people know, the better.

I wave it off. "Don't matta'. I trust you. I suspect Jasper will want the results soon, so just gimme a call and I'll fix the documents." I pause, touching the edge of the paper. "Do you know who _is_ Marissa's father?" The paternity result here just states that Jasper is a negative match.

"I can only guess," he says grimly. "I think the world of my aunt, and I get that she felt betrayed when Jasper fucked around on her, but…but this? Bringing a kid into it all who isn't even her husband's?"

And who knows better than Joey himself? Felix did just that with Frankie. Gianna isn't Frankie's mom—some old goomah who died in the MGM fire was. Apparently, Frankie also had twin brothers, younger than him, and they died, too.

Technically, I was at the MGM, too. Mom was pregnant with me at the time.

"I can only think of one," I say wryly, bringing my Coke to my lips. _Tommy_. Zia Alice's driver and babysitter. They're…they're close. Which is kind of disgusting, 'cause I'm pretty sure Tommy's like ten or fifteen years younger than Alice.

"And if it is…?" Joey's clearly thinking about the same person.

I nod. "He needs to be taken care of before Jasper gets outta prison." God forbid if he saw some connection between Marissa and Tommy, or even the bond between Alice and Tommy.

I'm not saying it's obvious, but Alice and Tommy _are_ good friends.

Meanwhile, whenever Dad tightens the security at home—such as right now, I suppose—and Mom gets her own driver, my father is clear on the rules. Drivers drive; they don't talk.

"Want me to take care'a him?" I arch a brow.

"Not yet," Joey replies. "But in a few months or so? When the results are old news to Jasper."

I nod. "_Mi farò venire in mente qualcosa_."

**Junior's POV**

"…and that's why we don't like Gotti, _dolcezza_." I point to the TV where the Discovery Channel is showing a documentary about the John Gotti trial from '92. "Now he's got cancer in his throat. Maybe from sucking too much prison d-i-c-k."

Lia babbles some shit and grabs my face.

"Remember what Nonno taught you?" I kiss her fingers. "A good gangsta' don't sign autographs, and he sure as fuck don't get his own documentary."

"Christ, Juniuh." Isabella enters the living room and shakes her head at me. "What're you teaching her? Come to Nonna, baby girl." She steals Lia from me. "Let's get some lunch in you before your nap."

"Sounds good," I say, standing up.

The wife laughs and pushes me down again. "I was talking to Lia. Not you."

I suck my teeth. "Rude." And I get up again, wanting food, too. But before I can reach the kitchen, the door in the foyer opens, revealing both Dominic and Daniela.

"Hey, Dad."

"How you doin', son?" I jerk my chin and re-tie my robe. To my surprise, he walks forward and hugs me, which he hasn't done voluntarily in _months_, so I gotta swallow my emotions. I squeeze him back, and a weight on my shoulders I hadn't even been aware of just vanishes. "You okay?" I palm his cheek and study him. No sign of drugs, but he's definitely been in a fight.

Anthony called me last night and told me what he could over the phone, but I don't need details.

"Yeah." He smiles. "You?"

"Very good." I won't fucking cry, but _Madonn'_, this feels so good. I've been worried about my son. Draping an arm around his shoulder, I shift my gaze to Daniela. "And you, hon? Everything good?"

I don't miss the fact that they both look like they just got outta the shower.

As far as I know, there's only one at my son's place.

"Yes. Everything is fine, thank you." Daniela smiles and adjusts the scarf around her neck, then smooths down her black dress.

"We're just about to have lunch," I mention, turning to Dominic again. Truth be told, Daniela's mannerisms freak me out a little; she moves and acts just like Isabella does. She's polite yet carefree in her way of speaking, and I've already witnessed the fire in her. For my son, she can end up being everything or nothing. Time will tell. "You should join us."

"Yes, you should!" Isabella shouts from the kitchen.

"I guess that settles it." Dominic grins and follows the scent of his mother's pasta Alfredo with chicken.

"I thought you wanted McDonald's," Dani teases him.

"Don't you know me by now, _tesorina_?" He nudges her and waggles his eyebrows. "There's always room for more."

I raise a brow, then shake my head, and enter the kitchen last. I suppose I'll be keeping an eye on those two.

"Look who's here, Lia!" Isabella says excitedly. "It's Daddy. Can you say _Daddy_?"

"Yo, what is it wit'chu two?" Dominic widens his arms and gives Dani and his mother a look. "Don't push her." He walks over to Lia, who's sitting in a highchair, and sits down next to her. "How you doin', _cucciolina_?" He kisses her on the forehead.

"Hi!" Lia waves and grabs his face, which is definitely her _thing_. "Hi!"

Isabella clasps her hands under her chin and stares at them with a big smile on her face.

Dominic laughs and gives her another smooch before getting free.

And before my wife can squeal out how fucking amazing she thinks this is, I'm there to clamp a hand over her mouth. "Don't make a big deal out of it, _bell'uccellino_," I whisper in her ear. "It makes him uncomfortable."

"_Capisce_," she whispers back, nodding. She zips her lips and pretends to throw away a key, but her joy is unmistakable. Then again, so is mine. But as long as we don't comment on it… "And I don't wanna ask about the bruises on Dominic's face, do I?"

I shake my head no.

She sighs, shoots the floor a little glare, then claps her hands. "Okay! Time for lunch."

Soon, we're all seated around the kitchen table, and I chuckle to myself as the wife seems to take note of every little thing that Dani does, who is seated on the other side of Lia. From everything how Dani mashes Lia's food to how she helps her with the sippy cup and wipes her mouth.

Dani has Isabella's stamp of approval.

"How was your date last night, honey?" Isabella asks her.

While Dani acts well—smiles politely—Dominic struggles with his temper. His mother doesn't notice, but I do. He grits his teeth and stabs a piece of chicken as if it was Emilio.

"It was pleasant." Daniela nods. "I don't think I will see him again, though. I think he's gay," she whispers behind her hand. To which I bark out a laugh and Dominic chokes on his chicken, ending up coughing so much I gotta slap him on the back. "What?" Dani offers an innocent expression. "When he learned I have a male roommate, he was more interested in Dominic."

"Christ, Dani!" Dominic splutters.

"Oh, wow." Isabella doesn't really know how to act. "Well…um. I see."

I'm still laughing as I break off a piece of bread and dip it in garlic oil.

And I decide that I dig this little bunny. She'll keep my son on his toes.

I just hope she can be trusted. Anthony told me Dani witnessed everything last night, but I assume Dominic talked to her before they came here today. 'Cause there's no way Isabella's gonna find out about Emilio.

~oOo~

Over the next few weeks, we monitor things closely, but most of the shit outta Reno seems to have died with Emilio. However, with the death of Emilio, we're not surprised when Marcus Misone, the New York boss, calls Felix to say that Jersey wants and needs help to "deal" with Vegas.

In return, Marcus says he'll broker a sit-down—make sure everything runs smoothly.

One of the Jersey capos is missing—Emilio—and Jersey obviously think they can pin it on us and get away with it. They don't know New York's business—they don't know that New York and Vegas have an alliance, so Jersey hopes us clipping Emilio will get them New York's help to…I don't know, move in on us?

It's hard to tell with New York and Jersey. They're seemingly always at war with each other, but Marcus still has the Garden State by the balls. Plus, it's all about paper. It's better to make money outta Jersey and play nice every now and then than destroying it all.

Felix and I have our own agenda with the sit-down.

Jersey stays outta Nevada—end'a story.

The bell above the door rings, bringing me back to the present, and I watch as Isabella and Gianna, Felix's wife, enter my tailor's place with a bunch of shopping bags. Leaning back a little, I make sure that my wife's driver is still outside.

Just 'cause most of the Reno bullshit is over doesn't mean _everything_ is. Dominic, Mario, Francis, and a few other guys are still working hard, cleaning up in Reno.

"Ooh, that looks amazing, _ciccino_!" Isabella comes over to the small platform I'm standing on and sidesteps to avoid knocking over old Alberto. He's nearly seventy years old, so I don't think he'd be able to take a blow from a Prada shopping bag. "Alberto, have I told you I love you lately? You always make my husband so handsome."

Alberto chuckles and waves her off. "You and that mouth of yours, Bella."

I dip down and grab Isabella's jaw, kissing her hard but chastely. "You been spendin' my money, hummingbird?"

"You know it." She hums and grins. "I wanna look good in New York."

I snort. "Yeah, 'cause you won't be shopping with Misone's wife in Manhattan?" I wink at her. "And you always look good, my love."

She giggles at that and starts chatting with Alberto, inquiring about his wife, saying they should come to _Stella_ more often, and then goes on to order this suit in gray and black, too. The one Alberto's working on right now is dark blue, so Isabella then moves on to talk about matching ties and cuff links.

"Bella," Gianna calls, standing near the door. "We have our hair appointment in fifteen minutes."

"I'm coming." Isabella smiles and looks up at me. "Have you heard from Anthony yet?"

I nod and step down from the platform as Alberto hands me the jacket to put on. "He's told Dominic to check in on Gabby while we're gone. And Elisa will be there, too."

Anthony offered for Gabby to join us in New York, but she was torn—said it wouldn't be easy to travel with two little ones, and she's not ready to travel without them. So, she'll stay here, and my son has ordered her driver to stick around outside. And, like I told Isabella, Dominic and Elisa will check in on her.

I bet Dani will, too, 'cause she has become friends with both Gabby and Elisa in the past few weeks. Together, the three have planned my parents and Esme's goodbye party for when we get back from New York.

Feels a little weird to have my parents moving to Florida, but whattaya gonna do?

"Oh." Isabella pouts, having wished Gabriella would've come, too. "Well, at least I'll have Julia. She's so excited."

I smirk wryly into the mirror in front of me. "Just make sure she quits that vegetarian shit before we go." I'm happy to have my little princess with us—definitely—but I won't have her embarrassing me by asking for fucking tofu. I shake my head. "When I was a kid, I was happy for whatever my mother served—"

"I know, _ciccino_." She pats my hand, and it feels like she's merely humoring me. "I know. You had it so rough growing up in fancy Manhattan. So many hills to climb barefoot each morning to get to school, just like in the old country—"

I narrow my eyes at her. "What's that suppos'ta mean?"

"Nothing." She smirks and pops a kiss on my chin. "I'll see you later. Dinner's at seven. Love you!" she calls over her shoulder, walking out with Gianna.

I scoff and face the large mirrors again. "Women."

_Can't live with 'em._

But when I wake up the next morning to all bags packed, breakfast on the kitchen table, my suit hanging on the bedroom door, and my shaving kit splayed on the bathroom counter, I'm once again reminded of why I can't live without 'em, either. Well, one of them.

_Next stop: New York._


End file.
